Darkness is Falling
by redrachxo
Summary: The world is poised on the edge ready to plunge into darkness under the rule of Vladimir Dracula until an ancient prophecy comes to light which places all of vampirekind in mortal danger. Set in the future after Vlad becomes Grand High Vampire. Warning: dark themes mixed with fluffiness. Rated M for occasional swearing, some violence and sexual content. Please R&R. xo
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Lightning danced across the steel grey sky as the clock struck midnight. Thunder rumbled and the rain pounded the lush green land. In one of the dark and forbidding towers of the building, a woman uttered a final cry of pain before a child was brought into the world.

Hundreds of miles away, a priest watched the hand of the clock slip past midnight. He knew the significance of this time. He was surrounded by an array of papers and books, they sprawled over his expansive desk, onto the highly polished floor and even crept up the walls. The clock's tick tock was the only sound in the library. The priest picked up his pen and returned to his note taking; he had even less time to rest now.

In the eerie light of the lightning, the child's eyes sparkled like sapphires, as it was placed in the gentle hands of its father. With overwhelming love, the father gazed at his newborn child, stroking back the damp tousled hair and tracing the tiny features with his fingers. "You are going to change the world," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The flames of the candles flickered as the dark cloaked figure hurried up the passageway; his boots thudded on the smooth, worn stones beneath his feet. The ornate doors ahead were guarded by two armoured knights. They stood facing each other, their swords touching the ground but poised to strike at any moment.

"I have an audience with His Highness."

The knights nodded in unison and the doors slowly opened of their own accord. Hesitantly, Dhvani stepped into the room, his earlier haste suddenly overcome with the solemnity of the occasion. He was about to step into the presence of the Chosen One. If he had been human he would have taken a deep breath to calm his nerves.

The room was cavernous; the stone ceiling arching high, red velvety curtains were draped over the windows. The moon, a glimmer in the sky, could be seen clearly through the antique glass. A red carpet, soft and thick, led up to the throne. Delicately spun cobwebs hung across the furniture. Rows and rows of candles lit up the room; they cast alternating pools of light and shadow. A shiver went up Dhvani's spine at the thought of meeting the Chosen One. He hurried up the red carpet to the throne at the end. Kneeling on one knee, he bowed his head deeply.

A figure stirred in the shadows of the throne. A man leant forward, his dark hair falling around his pale, finely carved face. Cold, glittering eyes of ice blue swept over Dhvani. "You have news?"

* * *

Dave slithered down the last few feet of the wall, his jacket ripping against the rough stone, falling on all fours; he quickly stumbled to his feet. "Get out now!" he roared at his comrades. Picking up his gun, he turned and began shooting at the advancing enemy, running backwards as he did so. He was determined to get as many of the bastards as he could whilst protecting his troops. Behind him, he could hear some of his comrades running for safety. They just needed to get inside the van and then they would be safe. "RUN!" he turned his head to scream at them.

Hissing caused him to turn his head back around and he found himself face to face with one of them. He was an ugly brute with his eyes glittering red and fangs extended. Unfazed Dave's trigger finger twitched on the gun but before the UV light reached its target, the vampire exploded into glittering dust. As the dust settled, a young woman picked up her stake; she laughed and punched Dave on the arm. "Getting abit slow there Lieutenant!" She grabbed his hand and they both began running towards the van.

Reaching it, their comrades pulled them in and slammed the doors close. The engine spluttered to a start and they were flung from side to side as the van rattled down the lane.

"Close call there Lieutenant," The young woman teased Dave, "Just shows that the traditional methods still work!"

Dave removed his jacket and surveyed the rip grimly. He ignored Eva's teasing. "How many?"

"Eight." One of his comrades answered him. He was tapping the details into an iPad. "Just updating the database sir." He looked up at Dave. "Was the target obtained?"

A smile finally broke over Dave's face as he took out a package from beneath his shirt. "Yes." Dave leant back in his seat. "Good work team."

* * *

The woman rose stiffly from her kneeling position. She blessed herself with her rosary beads before tucking them safely away under her shirt. She gazed up at the magnificence of the stained glass window for a moment before gathering her umbrella and briefcase and striding out of the church. It may have been summer, but this was a damp night holding the threat of rain. Briskly, she dodged the endless stream of tourists- really where did they come from at this time of the night! Through the twisting alleys and side streets, she arrived at her new destination. An old Georgian house which had been converted into a cafe. Its large square windows threw golden light out onto the dark cold street. Stepping into its warmth, she found herself surrounded by the delicious smells of freshly ground coffee and baked goods. At this time of the evening, the chatter and laughter was now muted. People were scattered around the over plump armchairs and spindly tables, some reading books, other working on their own books, some catching up with friends and some comfortable in their own company, all were just enjoying the cosy, intellectual atmosphere. She approached one such table at the far corner where a priest in his early forties was stirring a pot of tea.

"Father James," she greeted him as she sank into the comforting depths of the accompanying armchair.

"Professor Teverson," he smiled in return. "I have taken the liberty of ordering some ginger cake." He began pouring the tea into the large china cups. "How is the child?"

Professor Teverson accepted the steaming cup of tea with gratitude. "She is well. Her first year exam results were outstanding. How were your travels?"

"Interesting." Father James sipped his tea. "There is considerable tension within the Slayers Guild. The organisation, once so unified, is on the verge of tearing itself apart so conflicted are its members. Of course one could say the same for the vampires."

* * *

Dhvani stood in silence as the Count carefully read the parchment before tossing it onto the throne. "No different from the previous version. What does your research say?" he commanded.

"I believe the city of knowledge refers to..." he began speaking but was suddenly interpreted as a flurry of bats entered the hall. With hissing and roaring, the bats morphed into an array of vampires.

"We have been attacked!" One of them marched over to Dhvani and grabbed him around the throat. "Did you lead them to us? Traitor!" He lifted Dhvani into the air and shook him viciously.

"Put him down." The quietly spoken order came from a dark silhouette framed by the bright flames in the fireplace. The dark figure stepped out of the shadowy depths of the fireplace.

"Your Highness," murmured the vampires as one entity as they dropped down into kneeling positions.

Dhvani raised his head just slightly to look upon the Chosen One in person for the first time. He was so very young, just past nineteen yet already he carried an unmistakable air of authority. He was very personification of appearances being misleading. A young man at the end of his teenage years, tall, slim, athletic, dressed simply in what appeared to be a dark gray tracksuit and hoodie. He was undoubtedly a Dracula, the slim build, dark hair, the bone structure and blue eyes all reminiscent of the Count. Yet if the myths and rumours were true this young man was the most powerful vampire ever to walk the earth. His powers far beyond what any other vampire could hope to achieve. He was the vampire who would lead all of them into the future, who would end the slaying and hunting of vampires and ensure not only the survival of their kind but also their victory over all others. The Chosen One. Vladimir Dracula.

"Please rise." The Chosen One waved his hand impatiently at them. "Fort Arad has been attacked by slayers. I take it they were seeking the same information as Dhvani. Did they get it?"

There was a stunned silence for a moment as the visiting vampires took a moment to catch up with their quick witted leader. "Yes. The same book has gone missing." The one who had grabbed and threatened Dhvani broke the silence.

"They are after the prophecy." Vlad walked over to his father's throne and picked up the parchment. "They will have to translate it first and then they will have to interpret it. We are a few steps ahead of them. How many slain?"

"Seven." The same vampire answered. He stepped forward. "Possibly eight. They staked a child!" He cried out suddenly. "A child, Your Highness!"

Horror flitted briefly across Vlad's face. "The slayers know vampires don't transform until they are sixteen." His voice although tightly controlled was edged with anger. It seemed to satisfy the outrage of the visiting vampires. "I trust you have checked the security and made the appropriate arrangements to bolster it. I doubt that the slayers will return now that they have the information they require. I will send an appropriate physician to care for the child. Those of you who are fit to do so, will need to give statements as to the events of tonight. None of you are to go after the slayers."

"But they ..." one of the other vampires began to speak.

Vlad turned sharply to them. The cold determined look in his eyes halted any further speech. "Now is not the time for retaliation. Tend to your wounds. Secure your home. Leave the Slayers Guild to me."

A collective shudder ran through the vampires at his words. In a flurry they all transformed back to bats and left just as abruptly as they arrived.

* * *

Eva snapped open a can of Coke. "So is that it now? We are heading back to Germany?" She took a deep gulp of the cold refreshing liquid.

"We need a translator. The headquarters in Germany have some of the best," Dave answered. He took the can off her and took a large sip.

Eva scowled. "But there are still vampires in Arad. If we stay we could get the rest in the morning." She reached for her can.

Dave took another swig slowly before handing it back. "The most important thing is to get this target safely to the translators in Germany." He placed his hands protectively on the oilskin covered package. "This is about much more than slaying just a few vampires. This could be the key to stopping the Chosen One and wiping out all vampires."

* * *

Vlad walked back to the fireplace. He leant over the warmth of the flames, his head resting on his arm. He looked deep into the fire, watching the flames devour the wood. He was vaguely aware of his father speaking but the flames distracted him just briefly. The golden flames made him flashback to his dream that morning. The twisting dancing flames turned into a mass of golden hair billowing in the breeze. A young woman was stepping onto a cobbled street. The buildings surrounding her were of mellow golden stone reflecting the warmth of the sunshine. Her long hair was loose and floating around her as it caught the breeze. Her head was flung back with laughter, her eyes sparkling pools of blue. Her hands were placed protectively over a bundle of papers trying to hold them together.

"Vladdy?" His father's voice brought him back into the present.

Vlad turned away from the distraction of the flames. "Yes?"

The Count nodded at Dhvani.

Dhvani opened his briefcase and brought out some more papers. "After some extensive research I believe that the city of knowledge is referring to Oxford."

"Did your research lead you to a Professor Teverson?"

Dhvani raised his eyebrows at Vlad's question. "Yes, Your Highness. Professor Teverson is a specialist in the History of the Supernatural. She has recently received funding to research vampiric legends."

Vlad nodded. Professor Teverson had been a name on one of the papers in his dream. Or perhaps he should now call it a vision. He looked down at the parchment where Dhvani had faithfully copied the last version of the prophecy. Sometimes the unfortunate thing about language was its ability to mean two opposite things at once. Whatever the interpretation of the prophecy, source of power or destruction, the vampires had to find the source before the slayers. The Guild was being torn into factions right now and that made them more dangerous. Those seeking power were more willing to take risks in order to prove their worth as leaders. In the hands of the Guild, the source could be a super weapon able to completely annihilate his people. For months now he had been considering his options whilst gathering as much information as he could on the prophecy. Trying to locate the source would be highly dangerous now that the slayers had picked up the scent. Aside from matters of safety, he considered this too important a task to be left to another vampire. He would have to summon the High Council tonight.

* * *

"What makes you so certain that they are coming now?" asked Professor Teverson. She delicately picked up a slice of ginger cake and took a bite. Delicious, moist and spicy, this place never failed when it came to confectionary.

"The slayers and vampires are entering into a race to solve the prophecy. It's only a matter of time before one of them makes the connection to Oxford," answered Father James. He leant forward resting his elbows on the table. "You are expected to play your part Professor Teverson no more or less."

"A turf war between slayers and vampires, that's exactly what Oxford needs," she retorted. "I know my part. I have been working on the prophecy too. It would help if the Order had any more information or guidance to offer." Her voice held a barbed edge.

Father James raised a sardonic eyebrow. "The Order has given you as much information as it is safe to impart. As for guidance, you are the expert in the history of the supernatural; we expect that you will find the answers. We are relying on you to find the source." His face was serious again. "It is imperative that you find the source and bring it to the Order before the slayers or the vampires."

* * *

Vlad rose from his chair signalling the end of the High Council meeting. Vlad's words echoed in their minds. "I am the Chosen One; the prophecy concerns me, I alone must face the danger." Some of them were disgruntled at not even having the opportunity to seize glory. Others secretly relieved that at least they would not be facing the perilous task. Nearly all felt aggrieved that they were not even being told the secret location despite the risk of being slain for the information.

In the midst of the murmurs, the rustle of parchment papers being gathered and the slither of cloaks, there was an almost silent twang as an arrow sliced its way through the air towards Vlad's heart with almost deadly precision. For most of the vampires it was so fast that they only noticed it when Vlad effortlessly caught it in his hand and it burst into fire. The roar of fire caused them to snap their heads around to see the would be assassin surrounded by a cage of flames. Vlad nodded to one of the Justices. "Stake him." Vlad's cloak swished slightly as he abruptly turned his back and departed from the meeting room.

The Count and the rest of the High Council remained to observe the staking of the assassin. The Count was nearly shaking with rage that the Blood Brotherhood had made yet another attempt on his son's unlife. He knew that every other vampire in the room was somewhat unnerved and reassured at the same time by Vlad's abilities. Any vampire in that room would think twice before rebelling against Vlad. That, however, was not the point. Someone had just tried to murder his son and heir. Chosen One or not, special powers or not, Vlad was still his son and the Count still wanted to rip the throats out of every last member of the Blood Brotherhood. He kept his rage suppressed as he smiled grimly and shook the hand of each member of the High Council before their departures. He clapped the Justice who performed the execution on the back with gleeful laughter. And when they were all gone and he had finished his duties as the host, he let the mask slip. Opening his mouth he roared with a rage so strong that the very walls of the castle trembled and forks of lightning slammed into the ground.

**Chapter 2 teaser:**

'_Being jolted out of your body was a thoroughly disorientating experience.'_


	3. Chapter 2

_Thank you very much to Charchisto for your lovely review. I hope this won't disappoint!**  
**_

**Chapter 2**

The tiny beams of sunlight which crept through the curtains were caught in the hanging crystals and transformed into vibrant rainbows. Huddled in the warmth of her bed, Scarlett watched the colours shimmer across the walls and ceiling. Her alarm gave another persistent beep before she hastily hit the snooze button again. Just another couple of minutes to wallow in the warm aftermath of her dreams, then Scarlett resolved she would get up. The next beep came much too soon and with a frustrated groan Scarlett hit the off button and dragged herself to a sitting position. She doubted that she would ever be a morning person. Tea, yes that was what was needed. Tea would somehow make the morning a little more bearable.

After her second cup of tea, Scarlett was running through a mental checklist of all the things she had to do today. It was going to be a frantically busy day. She had to be ready for the new arrivals at college, arrange afternoon tea, attend a pre-term meeting with her tutors, prepare the Swanson room for History drinks and somehow fit in some more reading.

The thought tentatively entered her mind that today seemed ok, the dark cloud that had been hovering over her the past few days seem to have lifted. She opened the curtains and let the room flood with sunshine. She checked her emails to see if there had been any further timetable schedules. Sipping on a third cup of tea, she selected a book to read whilst waiting in the common room for the new arrivals. Back in her bathroom, Scarlett stared hard at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, today felt ok. With a deep sigh of relief, she began the task of arranging her hair into a chignon. She felt a twinge of excitement and happiness at the thought of a new year at university. She picked up her college hoodie tracing the Winterville crest with pride. This time last year she had arrived at Winterville, alone, scared and completely determined to make a new life for herself. And you succeeded, she told herself sternly. But don't let it slip. With that warning, she pulled on her hoodie and headed out into the crisp autumn morning.

* * *

The common room was full of noise, the excited chatter of the new arrivals, the clink of tea spoons against cups and the munching of many biscuits. Sitting on the window ledge, surrounded by friends, Scarlett was sipping yet another cup of tea. She was feeling light headed and her face hurt slightly from all the smiling. Charlie poked her in the side. "Have another chocolate digestive," she urged. "You skipped lunch and then you will be drinking tonight."

"I doubt a chocolate biscuit is going to help much." Tamara flicked back her long shiny black hair.

Charlie shrugged good-naturedly. "I don't know about that, a good cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit is generally the solution!" She laughed as Scarlett surrendered to temptation.

It was nice to have this little moment of serenity with her friends. Although she felt exhausted she knew Charlie was right. After a caffeine and sugar hit, Scarlett would be ready to tackle the world again. She smiled slightly as she looked around the common room. The new arrivals were already losing their shyness and laughter ricocheted around the wood panelled room. She knew how important it was to have a friendly face on arrival. There had been too many new arrivals in her life, time when people only went through the motions of greeting yet another new girl or even worse where they had been hostile. Scarlett hoped that for any new arrival she had met today, whose parents she had laughed with and reassured had felt welcome and safe in her presence.

Charlie stood up with an exaggerated groan stretching her limbs gracefully. "We better return these books back to our rooms before setting up the Swanson room." She patted her copy of Grazia fondly.

Scarlett gulped down the last of her tea and looked dolefully at her pile of papers and books. "I suppose it was rather optimistic to think I would get much work done," she said worriedly.

Charlie patted her best friend on the back. "Lighten up Scarlett, you are brilliant. I'm sure Professor Teverson will let you in on her research project." She smiled reassuringly at Scarlett. "Come on, we might even be able to slip to that French sandwich shop and get a croissant before subject drinks."

Stepping into the sunlit Fountain Quad, Scarlett paused for a moment as always to drink in the beauty of Winterville. It was one of the oldest colleges in Oxford with grounds of outstanding beauty. This quad was only one of four large quads which made up the college. It was unimaginatively named the Fountain Quad after the large and beautiful water foundation in the centre. The gushes of water leapt out of the dolphins' mouth with such force that the fountain was surrounded by a slight watery mist. On a warm summer day it was an exquisite pleasure to sit by the fountain, dangle your feet in the cold water and enjoy the refreshment of the mist.

Heeding Charlie's cry to catch up, Scarlett began walking after her friend. Charlie was uttering impossible and ridiculous threats making her laugh. Her long hair had fallen out of its elegant chignon and flowed around her. The autumn breeze rustled greedily at her papers and Scarlett tightened her grasp on her work as she hurried across the cobble stones of the quad.

* * *

It was traditional to have subject drinks on the first night of term for the new arrivals. Subject drinks were an informal opportunity to meet and greet your fellow students and your new tutors. After an hour or two the tutors would gracefully excuse themselves and then depending on the subject the drinks could turn into a party or gently fizzle out as students abandoned their allocated room for one with a livelier atmosphere. Generally you wanted to end up in the medics' room- that always ended up being the biggest and loudest party. Last year, the medics led the freshers in a Congo around the four quads before descending upon the college bar - next door naturally. They didn't want to wreck their own college bar quite so soon in the year. Apparently next door was closing their entrance gates early this year.

History drinks were a more sedate affair in comparison and Scarlett anticipated that at about eight o clock the tutors would be making their excuses, at half nine the alcohol would be running out and by ten the majority of the history freshers would be drinking shots in the medics room.

Looking around the Swanson room, Scarlett was truly grateful for Charlie's help earlier. Snacks were piled upon the highly polished oak table, the many lamps added warm light to the dark oak panelled room and the sofas looked inviting with their soft cushions. The tutors were sipping their drinks and making polite if not slightly forced conversation with their students. The older students drank the wine freely and chatted amongst themselves with ease. Some of the freshers were desperately trying to impress the tutor they were caught in conversation with. Already one of the more predatory third years Adam was eyeing up the freshers. Scarlett weaved in and out of groups, pouring more wine into empty cups, complimenting outfits and laughing at jokes. She drew the shy freshers into conversation, nudged the older students into making an effort to get to know the freshers and gave the predatory Adam sharp warning looks.

Watching her, Adam thought that she was a true social butterfly; she flitted from place to place, managing to be everywhere at once and pleasing everyone. What's more she made it look effortless. Her smile was dazzling, her warmth and confidence lit up whoever's company she was keeping. And the looks she kept giving him! Oh yes, he was so in there! He reached out and took the bottle of wine from her hands. "Why don't you sit down for a moment? I'll keep them topped up," he smiled charmingly at her and patted her on the back slightly lower than where it was socially acceptable.

Scarlett smiled insincerely at him, before grabbing a glass of red wine and moving away quickly to sit on the sofa beside a fresher who was talking earnestly to one of the tutors.

Professor Teverson strode into the room, bringing a cold gust of wind in with her as she opened the door. She was unusually late and wore a rather glazed expression on her face. "Good evening everyone," she spoke softly, but somehow at the sound of her voice the room quietened down to pay attention to her. "Welcome to Winterville and to Oxford. I hope you are having a pleasant evening. My name is Professor Teverson and I am the Head of History at Winterville. Some of you may remember me from your interviews." There was some quiet squirms of embarrassment amongst the students at those particular memories. "My apologies for being late. I would also like to introduce you to another new-comer. This is Vladimir Count," Professor Teverson gestured at the student standing silently beside her, "He is an exchange student from the University of St Petersburg and will be assisting me on my research this term."

Scarlett looked up at the latest arrival as curious as any of her fellow-students and her heartbeat rapidly accelerated at the sight of Vladimir Count. He was so good-looking! Jet black hair fell over his forehead almost into his eyes. His skin was so pale it verged on translucent particularly against the darkness of his hair and eyes. His face was exquisite, sharply cut cheekbones, a straight nose and a sensually full mouth. Scarlett abruptly averted her eyes concerned that she was staring at him. A quick glance either side to her suggested that she wasn't the only one. Regardless of Vladimir's hotness, she still had to perform the role of student representative. Desperately hoping that she wouldn't do something stupid and embarrassing like trip over her own feet, she stood up. With a smile she walked calmly over to Professor Teverson and Vladimir. "Hi Vladimir, it's lovely to meet you," she extended her hand.

Vlad lifted his eyes from the ground and met her gaze. Looking into his dark blue eyes, Scarlett felt the world had suddenly frozen. Everything became fuzzy and disjointed. It felt like she had been thrown out of her body as she remembered the darkness, the pounding rain, and those sapphire blue eyes gazing into hers. She could still feel the exhilaration pumping through her veins and something else an unfamiliar fiery emotion. She gave an almost inaudible gasp of recognition as she was jolted back into her own body. The dream was slightly fuzzy around the corners, a memory dredged up from her mind from years ago but it had definitely involved him.

Vlad took her hand in his. His handshake was firm and cold. "Hi...," he paused and waited for her to say her name.

Still feeling slightly disoriented from the de ja va, it took Scarlett a second to catch up with him. "Sorry, I'm Scarlett," she managed to say. She made herself smile warmly at him again despite feeling dizzy.

"Scarlett," Vlad repeated with a slight smile of his own.

* * *

The hands of the clock were moving past eight and as Scarlett had anticipated the tutors were now murmuring excuses and shaking hands with various students as they moved towards the door. Many of them had families that they wanted to get back to. The students were getting slightly noisier now and the wine was flowing freely. Vlad was sitting on one of the sofas between two first years who were eagerly asking him questions about Russia. Cradling his glass of red wine, Vlad watched Scarlett as she thanked the tutors and handed them coats and umbrellas. He still felt slightly sick from the vision that had swept over him when his eyes met her. Being jolted out of your body was a thoroughly disorientating experience. When he began having visions outside his dreams, during waking hours, the strength of the visions would bring him to the verge of collapse. Now after months of vigorous training, he was able to control his body during the vision instead of blacking out and slipping into unconsciousness. However the vision he had just experienced had been incredibly powerful, he had been completely unprepared for its strength.

He hadn't planned on coming to the subject drinks this evening. It had been something Professor Teverson had said at the end of their meeting. "We had better get going to or the others will be asking questions." Vlad wanted to focus on Professor Teverson's research and find the source as soon as possible but he was a clever strategist and he knew that he needed to blend in as much as possible. All he needed to do was show his face at a couple of the fresher events and then for the rest of the term he could hide away in the libraries and no-one would ask any awkward questions. It would be perfectly normal behaviour for the highly pressurised academic atmosphere of Oxford. During his talk with Professor Teverson this afternoon, Vlad had looked out the window of her office and onto the Fountain Quad. It was with grim satisfaction that he observed the golden young woman walking across the quad with her sunlit hair floating in the wind. He thought it was validation that Oxford was the location of the source.

_The darkness surrounded them. Rain was gushing over the leather of his cloak. Scarlett was so close to him, he could sense her frantic heartbeat. He was gazing into her sapphire blue eyes. Even now Vlad could still feel an echo of how terrified he had been in the vision but what of he couldn't be sure._

"Checking out Scarlett?" Adam threw himself onto the sofa opposite Vlad. He had split some wine over himself but didn't seem to notice. Adam leant forward and fixed Vlad with what was clearly meant to be a condensing look. "Don't waste your time. You're not her type."

Vlad met Adam's gaze with his icy cold eyes, he merely raised his eyebrows then with a disinterested shrug, he turned his attention back to Scarlett. Vlad raised his glass to his mouth and slowly took a sip as he continued to watch Scarlett. Adam sat there frozen for a moment feeling extremely irritated but also decidedly unnerved. He stumbled off with the uncomfortable feeling that he had just been dismissed.

* * *

**Chapter 3 Teaser**

_'The corner of Vlad's mouth curled slightly, almost as if he was vaguely amused. His fangs extended and his eyes grew black. "I am the Chosen One. That's all the 'unless'" he emphasised the word with scorn, "we need."' _


	4. Chapter 3

_**Thank you very much to Soappower for your review! I was planning to update this story with a new chapter on Wednesdays and Sundays. However your review was so lovely I thought I would post this earlier.**_

_**Bit of a warning in advance this story is going to be exploring some rather dark and emotive issues at certain parts from Chapter 4 onwards.**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 3**

The fireball exploded into vibrant shades of red, orange and gold against the greyness of the cellar walls. As the grandfather clock in the hall chimed six o clock, Vlad began his cooling down exercises. He now trained every day, following the disciplined example of his former tutor Bertrand du Fortunesa. Once he had viewed training as a chore, the vampire equivalent of homework but more recently it had become a refuge for him. For a few hours each day, Vlad had some time and space to himself - away from the fighting of his family, from the politics of the vampire families and the ever increasing demands of his role as the Grand High Vampire. Occasionally he trained with a tutor when he felt the need was required but Vlad had become wary of revealing the full extent of his powers. He knew that he needed to keep his strengths and weaknesses secret because they could be used against him by the numerous enemies he seemed to amass on a daily basis.

The autumn evenings were growing shorter for which Vlad was grateful. It enabled him to move more freely. Another thing for which he was grateful was the unusual opening hours of the libraries. Most were open until late and some were even open twenty four/ seven. Soon it would be dusk and he would be able to travel with ease from his lodgings to the Winterville library. Vlad smiled to himself at the thought of going to the library. It was so refreshing to be anonymous, just another face in the crowd, it felt like he was just another normal student.

On his ascent up the staircase to his room, Vlad's smile slowly faded. He paused and gazed longingly at the large ornate mirror hanging on the opposite wall. The mirror reflected the beautiful reception hall, the gleaming polished banisters of the staircase and the painting of the Cotswolds behind Vlad. Apart from that it was blank. It showed no trace of the handsome young man staring into it or of the intense sadness on his face. The absence of a reflection was a painful reminder to Vlad that he would never be normal.

* * *

Scarlett gazed out of her window onto the gardens below. The sky was burnished in beautiful shades of pink and orange. The darkness of night was beginning to sweep across the sky. It was the sort of sunset that Scarlett loved, a prolonged fiery battle between the sun and the encroaching darkness, where the light fought every inch of the way and lit the sky with vibrant colours. Scarlett gulped down the last of her tea. Time to hit the library again. Hmm it was so tempting just to make another cup of tea. Shaking off the temptation Scarlett checked her reflection in the mirror. Carefully she re applied her lipstick. The reflection in her mirror showed no trace of the insecure convent schoolgirl she used to be. Aside from the dramatic red of her lipstick, her makeup was soft and subtle, her hair elegantly tidy in its chignon. She smiled wistfully, remembering the old films she used to watch with Sister Mary. She wondered what her old friend and guardian would have thought of her dramatic transformation. The hot prickle of tears caused her to bite her lip. Taking a deep breath, Scarlett steeled herself and firmly locked the memories away in a box in her mind.

* * *

He could have easily covered the distance from his lodgings to Winterville in seconds using super speed but Vlad preferred to walk at a normal pace through the city. Oxford was just as beautiful in reality as it appeared in the books and T.V. The college buildings stood defiant and proud of their grandeur. He relished the feel of the uneven cobbles beneath his feet. The streetlights still adhered to the old Victorian gaslight design. Vlad had never lived anywhere quite like this. Oxford had a seductive dream like air, stepping into certain corners of the city was like stepping back into another time. Sometimes, he felt like he could feel the history seeping out of the stones.

So far his plans for Oxford had progressed rather smoothly. A hypnotised Professor Teverson had willingly accepted him onto her research team as an exchange student from Russia. Now all he had to do was play his role of the research student and find out as much about the prophecy and the source. It had crossed his mind several times that it could be just a myth and this was all a waste of his time. However the myth itself had extra-ordinary power and if it was real Vlad couldn't risk the Slayers' Guild getting hold of it before him. The thought of his family in danger made Vlad quicken his steps. He couldn't allow the beauty of Oxford to distract him from his mission.

* * *

Vlad was trying not to tap his foot in annoyance as the librarian carefully searched through the cards on her desk. "Seat 22D," the librarian smiled at him and tucked the blue card back into the haphazard pile on her desk.

Vlad smiled and politely thanked her. He began to search the Winterville library for the person who was currently using the book he needed. Ah hypnosis! He couldn't deny that the usefulness of that particular power. Vlad halted suddenly when he saw the mass of golden hair tumbling onto the desk of seat 22D's occupant. Scarlett. Without realising it, Vlad had involuntarily stepped back as the memory of the vision flashed through his mind. He frowned, suddenly feeling incredibly annoyed with himself. Just because he had a vision didn't mean it would come true. He sniffed the air cautiously; her scent was a mixture of flowers, vanilla and lavender, definitely no trace of slayer. Although with the Guild's biological weapons, slayers were sometimes able to mask their scent. Vlad stepped forward determinedly and cleared his throat. "Sorry, excuse me."

Scarlett lifted her head from the papers she was working on. She looked dazed and slightly irritated at being dragged back into the real world. Her slow and steady heartbeat accelerated rapidly at the sight of him. Was she scared of him? Did she know what he was? Vlad wondered as he sensed the dramatic change in her heart rate.

"Hi Vladimir." She smiled warmly and sat back in her seat. "How are you?"

It took Vlad a moment to recover from the radiance of her smile and remember why he had approached her. "Um... I was looking for a book. The Vampire Myths of the Ancient World."

"Oh yes. I'm just checking a couple of points but I will be finished with it in about half an hour. Are you doing the introductory reading for Professor Teverson? I have a couple more of the books on her list." Scarlett gestured at the books and papers surrounding her. Vlad sat down in the empty seat next to her. "Are you working on her project too?" The pile of books and papers looked formidable. "I thought undergraduates didn't get involved in research projects."

Scarlett nodded. Her smile was suddenly shy and pink was clouding her cheeks. "Yes," she said quietly. "It was part of a scholarship that I received for my first year exam results."

Vlad found himself grinning at her. "So, in Oxford when you do well in exams they reward you with even more work?" he queried, gently teasing her.

She laughed softly. "Only in Oxford. I gained the opportunity to assist in a research project and this was the project I chose." She patted the pile of books beside her with affection.

"So what interested you in this particular project?" Vlad asked trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

"Vampires and myths about the end of the world, how could a girl resist? It's like Twilight!" She replied with mock seriousness. "No really, this stuff is fascinating. In first year I studied the supernatural history of medieval England with Professor Teverson and she is amazing. It's so interesting that certain supernatural creatures have been written about in various different cultures throughout the centuries. The explanations for the existence of these creatures also vary and it makes you wonder..." She bit her lip and smiled ruefully. "Sorry. I'm going on a bit."

Her passion for the subject made her face light up and Vlad was struck by how extraordinarily beautiful she was. Beautiful in a very traditional way with her soft heart shaped face and gentle features, her rosebud of a mouth and darkly lashed eyes. Aware that he was probably staring, Vlad hastily picked up a book and opened it. "No, not at all. It's great that you're so interesting... I mean interested in this." Vlad inwardly groaned at his incompetence.

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you know."

Vlad turned to look at her sharply, his eyes narrowing, he could feel his fangs beginning to extend. "What do you mean?" He tried to make the question sound casual.

"Oh come on!" Scarlett gave him a meaningful look. "St Petersburg wouldn't send you to work for Professor Teverson unless you were really good."

Vlad relaxed. "Well, I'm here to learn," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm not an expert or anything like that. So, aside from Twilight what do you recommend?"

Since they were working on the same reading list, it seemed sensible for them to sit together so they could share the books. Once he began reading Vlad found himself so absorbed in the work that he forgot about the time. When the church bell tolled one o'clock, Scarlett yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Hmm, I better go to bed." She swept her hair back into a tidy bun. The scent of her hair still hung in the air

"See you tomorrow evening?" Vlad asked impulsively.

"Sure." Scarlett's lips curled sensuously into a smile. "Goodnight Vladimir."

* * *

Night's dark blue was beginning to fade when Vlad emerged from the library with a couple of books tucked under his arm. He had left a sticky note on the desk for Scarlett. Just so she knew he had taken a couple of the books. Vlad paused and looked up at the pre dawn sky. The horizon was a shimmering blue gray, the colour of her eyes. Vlad smiled slightly to himself as he remembered her laugh. "It's like Twilight."

The sun's rays a ghostly silver began to filter through the blueness. Time to put his super speed to good use. Within seconds he was outside his lodgings, an imposing gothic style mansion on Banbury Road, a considerable distance from the city centre. Stepping into the well lit reception hall, Vlad felt a pang of homesickness, not so much for the castle but more for his family. His father and his sister's constant squabbling used to annoy Vlad but in comparison to the silence of this house, he suddenly missed it.

A butler appeared at the top of the stairs. "Master Vlad, shall I serve you breakfast in the drawing room?"

"Yes, thank you Roberts," replied Vlad as he shrugged off his leather jacket. Still there were advantages to living apart from his family.

* * *

Hooded figures stepped through the glitter of the ash particles still floating in the breeze. The morning sun was cold and glittering in the frosty air. Dave pulled back his hood and lifted his face to the sun. With a grin, he turned around and observed the wreckage. Vampire ashes spilled across the castle courtyard. Nothing like a good slaying in the morning. Pulling out his radio and flicking on the switch, Dave smirked. "Operation Sunrise is complete. Over."

The radio crackled into life. "Good job Lieutenant. Presence urgently requested for meeting at 10am. Over."

Dave's grin widened. "Tell me this is about the prophecy. Come on make my day!"

The radio crackled again but Dave could hear the glee in his comrade's voice. "Yes. Over."

* * *

"So Vladimir Count?" Charlie raised her eyebrows pointedly at Scarlett.

Scarlett looked up from her soup. "What about him?"

Charlie leant back in her seat. "Don't give me the wide eyed innocent look. I know that look. Doesn't work on me." She folded her arms and looked at Scarlett sternly.

Scarlett tried to suppress her smile but couldn't quite manage it. "I'm sure it's not as exciting as rumour has it," she said wryly looking around the nearly deserted dining hall.

Charlie dipped her chip in mayonnaise. "So you didn't have sex under a library desk then?"

Scarlett shook her head. "No, it was definitely the fountain."

They stared at each other with mock serious expressions on their faces. Scarlett broke first and began giggling. Oxford colleges were like small villages, the gossip tended to get rather ridiculous.

"You and Vladimir Count?" Tamara frowned. "When?"

"We are both involved in Professor Teverson's research project. I saw him in the library yesterday. He's a really nice guy. "Scarlett shrugged but couldn't escape the blush creeping up into her cheeks.

Charlie grinned at her. "Fit too. At least that's what I heard." She winked at Tamara.

"I don't think Robin would be happy to hear you talk like that," Tamara said primly.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Oh come on Tams! Just coz I say another lad is fit doesn't mean I'm going to run off with him. Anyway, I haven't seen him yet." She dunked another chip into mayonnaise. "But I've heard that he is gorgeous."

Scarlett nodded. "He is," she admitted with a smile. "Really hot."

Tamara laughed. "Scarlett, look at you! Totally fancies him, "she said to Charlie in a loud conspiratorial whisper.

"Yeah. Totally," Charlie replied also in a loud whisper.

Scarlett pulled a face. "Wow, I can't hear you!" she said sarcastically.

"He is rather quiet. I haven't seen him around much." Tamara glanced at her wristwatch. "I better go; I've got a lecture at two o clock."

"You could invite him to formal hall with us. Just as a group of friends, he might be lonely coming to a different country." Charlie stood up to let Tamara out of the corner. "And this way I could finally meet the Russian hottie."

Scarlett kept her eyes firmly on her soup. Maybe," she murmured casually.

* * *

Vlad paced up and down the forest floor. His cloak flowed and swirled around him as he moved. Count Dracula leant against the trunk of a tree, his eyes glowing red with anger. "Vladdy, this is the second atrocity in a month. You must do something," he snarled.

"We had a ceasefire. The treaties were being drawn up. If we act in retaliation, it could spark a war. We have to tread carefully," Vlad warned his father.

The Count was a blur as he moved quickly to grab his son's shoulders. "When did they withdraw from negotiations? When did they start slaying us again? Oh yes," he hissed," It was when they found out about the prophecy!"

Vlad shook himself free of his father's grasp. "We don't know that for certain."

The Count laughed bitterly. "Oh Vladimir, I know how much you want peace but they don't! They think that there is a way to destroy us, destroy you as the Chosen One. I know slayers. Given a choice between peace or the chance to wipe us out, they will choose death. Our death. Your people's death." The Count sighed in exasperation and shook out his leather cloak in irritation.

Vlad stepped forward and placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "I won't let that happen," he promised. "I will find the source before them."

"And in the meantime?" His father challenged him.

"I'll send a message to the Slayer's Guild. Tell them to take control of these supposed renegades." Vlad clicked his fingers and a scroll appeared in his hand. He handed it to his father. "Hypnotise a random breather to deliver this."

The Count took the scroll. "Will this work?" he looked at the scroll sceptically.

Vlad nodded. "You will wake up with it in your hand."

The Count nodded uneasily. This meeting in itself was strange. They were meeting in the dreamworld, the place where vampires went when they slept. You can't meet someone in your dreams. And you certainly couldn't take physical items from your dreams back into your waking unlife. Not unless you were the Chosen One apparently. A shiver ran through the Count as he looked at the scroll. He wasn't sure if he wanted to find it in his hand when he woke up. With considerable effort he redirected his mind back onto the task at hand. "Unless what?" he asked.

Vlad raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" he questioned.

"Stop slaying us or we will..." The Count snapped the air with his fangs meaningfully.

The corner of Vlad's mouth curled slightly, almost as if he was vaguely amused. His fangs extended and his eyes grew black. "I am the Chosen One. That's all the 'unless'" he emphasised the word with scorn, "we need."

* * *

Scarlett smiled as she read Vladimir's note. It was very sweet of him to let her know which books he had taken. She chided herself for acting like such an idiot. Look at her smiling wistfully over a boy. As if she had any chance with someone as good-looking as Vladimir Count! Besides, she was here to study. She needed to focus on her work and stop day dreaming about something which was never going to happen. Something she couldn't let happen. Relationships hurt you. Letting someone get close to you was a mistake. Scarlett's smile turned into a scowl. She set aside Vladimir's note and started on her research.

"Hi Scarlett." Vladimir set the borrowed books down on the desk. He was taking off his leather jacket. A waft of his crisp aftershave drifted over to Scarlett.

Scarlett looked up at him and smiled. Damn, she thought as she drank in the sight of him. He was impossibly good-looking. His hair was impossibly jet black and slightly messed up as if he had been running his hands through it. You could probably cut yourself on his impossibly sharp cheekbones. Scarlett took a deep breath, stop it, she warned herself, seriously just stop it. Letting her breath out, she replied causally. "Hi Vladimir. Thanks for the note."

"No problem. I hope you don't mind." He sat down next to her and more of his delicious aftershave wafted her way.

Scarlett's knees definitely felt weak. She was profoundly grateful that she was sitting down. "Anything interesting?" Act casual; be normal, she said to herself over and over again like a mantra.

"Yeah, I thought this one was particularly useful. Have you read it?"

After a brief discussion, they settled down to work in a comfortable silence. Scarlett's heartbeat began to return to normal levels as she resumed her work. She couldn't help sneaking the occasional glance at him though. His eyelashes were so dark against his impossibly pale skin. He frowned slightly as he skimmed through the reading. Occasionally his mouth would twitch in amusement. He had an impossibly sexy mouth. Stop it. Stop it. STOP IT. Scarlett threw down her pen and stood up.

Vladimir looked up with concern on his face. "You ok?" he asked.

Scarlett shook her head. "No, I think I need some tea," she replied slightly surprised at how calm and in control she sounded. Tea? More like a cold shower. "Do you want some?" Oh, that sounded suggestive. Scarlett felt her cheeks go warm.

"Yeah." Vladimir stood up too and lifted his leather jacket. "Where do we go?"

Scarlett could feel the hum of conversation change in tone and intensity when she walked into the common room with Vladimir. She felt awkward and insecure under the scrutiny of other people. She noted how many of the girls turned to look at Vladimir, running their eyes over him and then turning their gaze speculatively onto her. She could almost hear them whispering. Look at her, she's not even pretty. Can you believe it? The fat, ugly girl is trying to pull the new guy. Poor him. Scarlett marched across the common room to kitchenette unit with Vladimir following behind her. She switched on the kettle, grabbed two mugs and lifted the box of teabags down from the shelf. Then she turned to Vladimir to ask him how he liked his tea.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms folded as he looked around the common room with interest. A smile appeared to be hovering on his lips. He turned to her and the smile fully materialised. "Sorry," he moved towards her, "I should be helping you."

"It's ok. How do you like it?" She tried to stop herself from outwardly grimacing. Did she have to sound so suggestive all the time? She gestured towards the tea frantically.

"Strong with one sugar. Thank you." He took the mug that she nudged towards him.

They moved to a couple of armchairs. Even with their chairs a foot apart, Vlad was acutely aware of the heat radiating from Scarlett's body. He watched her as she wrapped her hands around her mug and she breathed in the smell of the tea. The steam caused her golden skin to flush slightly with pink.

"This place looks great." Vlad gestured around the common room. "Does every college have one?"

Scarlett nodded. "It's a good place just to hang out and relax. Unlimited tea and coffee. Essential for caffeine addicts like me. Usually there are biscuits are around too but I think we got here too late." Scarlett sipped her tea. "Did you have anything like this back in St Petersburg?"

"No." Vlad thought of the castle in Transylvania. The reception hall with its throne was nothing like this warm and cosy room. "I like it. It's very homely. Things are much more formal where I come from."

"You don't sound very Russian," Scarlett observed. She was curling up into a ball on her armchair. She peeked over her mug at him. Her eyes were dazzling, shades of gray and blue, changing according to the light.

Vlad cleared his throat but didn't break eye contact with her. "I am not Russian. I'm originally from Transylvania but I moved to the UK a long time ago." Memories of his first few years in Wales made him wistful. He gulped down the rest of the tea. The hotness should have scalded his throat but it didn't.

Scarlett seemed to sense his reluctance to talk about his past and she didn't push him for more information. Her smile was gentle. They sat in silence for a few minutes as she finished her tea more slowly. They stood up at the same time and Vlad leant forward to take her mug at the same time as she reached for his. Stepping forwards, her scent surrounded him and Vlad drank it in. The flowery lightness of her perfume, the rich cocoa and vanilla of her body lotion, the lavender of her shampoo... The realisation crashed over him. The absence of breather. He had pinpointed on their second meeting that she didn't have the scent of a slayer but he had completely failed to notice the absence of breather. She didn't smell of breather at all. That wasn't possible. She had to be a breather. He could hear her heartbeat; she was so close that he could sense the ebb and flow of her blood. A chill went through Vlad. It should be dangerous for him to be this close to a breather; it was placing himself in temptation's way, if he bent his head now he would be in a position to sink his fangs into her neck. Except there was no dryness in his mouth. He didn't feel remotely tempted. He was hungry, he was always longing for blood, and sometimes the craving was so bad that it was all he could think about. Vlad gazed at her throat, checking for a pulse, he could see the tiny flicker of movement that indicated the presence of blood pulsating through her arteries. Gazing at the smooth goldenness of Scarlett's throat, Vlad felt a different type of hunger uncurl in the pit of his stomach. He tore his gaze away from her and focused on the mug on her hands. "I'll wash up." With great self-control, he calmly took her mug and made himself smile. "It's the least I can do."

**Chapter 4 Teaser**

_'Their lips were barely an inch apart. He could feel her breath on his mouth. For a very long moment they looked at each other. Vlad slid his hand over hers, his cool fingers encircling her wrist, he was barely touching her but he could feel her heartbeat racing.'_


	5. Chapter 4

_**Thanks very much for the encouraging reviews. They have definitely motivated me to keep writing. **_

_**Warning: This chapter has references to self-harm, sex and blood in it. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 4**

As the voices of the choir faded away, Scarlett slowly opened her eyes. The familiar smells and sounds of the church always soothed her when she was feeling ruffled and uncertain. She gazed at the stained glass window; every time she looked upon it she seemed to notice some tiny new detail of beauty. She breathed in the air which was heavily laden with the smell of incense. It was a smell which evoked powerful memories of her childhood. She savoured this moment of tranquillity and sat back in her pew. The flames of the white candles flickered upon the iron wrought stands. Members of the choir were murmuring softly in the background. Scarlett closed her eyes for another moment. Then she stood up and walked between the pews sliding her hand along the smooth scented wood. Stepping onto the aisle of the church, she kneeled on one knee and blessed herself before rising to her feet gracefully. She paused for a moment as she passed the white candles. What was it about fire that enticed you to entwine your fingers in the flames even though you knew it would burn? Shaking off the morbid thought, she left the chapel.

Scarlett greeted the on duty priest. "Good evening Father James."

He smiled kindly at her. "Good evening Scarlett. How have you been?"

"Fine Father." Scarlett returned the smile. "And yourself?"

"Well, thank you." Father James gestured towards the choir in the rafters. "Were you enjoying the choral music?" he asked. "It's a pity that you no longer sing with us."

Scarlett shrugged. "I think it's been too long," she replied half wistfully as she followed his gaze up to the rafters.

"It's never too late," Father James's face grew more serious. He patted Scarlett's shoulder. "There will always be a place for you here." He saw the glitter of tears in her eyes.

"I know. Thank you Father James," she answered softly.

* * *

Vlad slumped against the cellar wall, his pale face glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Several punch bags were scattered across the cellar floor, their contents spilling out. The walls were scorched black from fireballs. After hours of intensive training, Vlad was feeling exhausted but the rage was still simmering underneath. He could feel the darkness inside of him screaming to be let out. They were so close to a peace treaty. After months of negotiations, of ceasefires and of repeated assassination attempts by his own people, Vlad had told himself it was worth it because he would achieve peace. Finally breathers and vampires could live side by side without war and death. Now the Slayers Guild was falling apart and the consequences for both humans and vampires could be catastrophic. Certain factions of the Guild were refusing to accept his offer of peace. They didn't trust him. Why should they? After all he was the Chosen One, vampiric myth said that he would lead an army and restore vampires to domination over humankind.

Vlad placed his head in his hands and groaned in despair. No one ever asked him what he wanted. He didn't choose this position; it had been forced upon him. Every day he had to struggle with the darkness inside him, knowing that if he slipped up, if he lost control, he would lose himself completely. Vlad dragged himself to his feet. Time to go to the library. Self control and discipline, he would keep the monster inside him, he would not slip up.

* * *

Professor Teverson watched in silence as Father James poured the tea. "The cherry scones are rather delicious." He pushed a plate towards her.

"Cherry scones," Professor Teverson hissed. "We have the King of Vampires in our midst and you want to talk about cherry scones." She set her china cup down loudly in its saucer. Her hands were shaking too hard to hold it.

Father James stirred his tea calmly. "I would prefer to discuss the progress of your research." He sipped his tea elegantly. "I trust that there has been progress."

Professor Teverson glared at him. "Did you not hear what I said? The King of Vampires is in Oxford. He's at my college right now. Consorting with my students. He was in my office!"

Father James leant forward. "Professor Teverson, please try to keep your voice down." He looked around meaningfully. "Vladimir Dracula is not their king. He is the Chosen One. Far more important and deadly than a king. In any case, from the reports I have received he is not the murdering kind. He has sought peace with the Slayers Guild." He took another sip of his tea. "I do wish you had paid attention to our earlier conversations. Now, the research?"

Professor Teverson kept glaring at him but the priest maintained eye contact. He was steady and self assured and she found herself breaking as he knew she would. "There are records to support the Order's contention that the source was in England during the reign of Mary Tudor. That is far as I have gotten."

"So you have nothing new to tell us." Father James frowned. "I hope you understand how important this task is."

Professor Teverson leant forward. "If it is so important, how come I had to accept Vladimir Dracula onto my research team?" she asked bitterly. "You say I have to find this source before the vampires but you force me to liaise with their ki- their Chosen One!"

Father James merely shrugged. "You know I cannot give you any further information about the Order." He set down his tea cup gently and stood up.

"What about Scarlett?" Professor Teverson snapped half rising to her feet. "You call her a child and yet you force me to put her in danger!"

Father James gestured firmly for her to remain seated. "Professor Teverson, the Order asks that you find the source as soon as possible. Do not question our methods. Do not question our orders," he commanded, his voice turning cold. He picked up his coat and hat. "Now," his customary smile was back but its kindness didn't quite reach his eyes, "I really do recommend that you try the cherry scones. Some refreshment to sustain you as you will be working late this evening." He walked out leaving a distressed Professor Teverson behind.

* * *

Vladimir was already in the library when Scarlett arrived. He was flicking through the pages on an old book with unnecessary force and speed. He had dark circles under his eyes, a shadow of stubble on his face and his eyes looked black in the dim lighting. He looked up at her footsteps.

"What did Silvrus ever do to you?" Scarlett said lightly, teasingly. She took the book from his hands and closed it firmly. Vladimir was gripping the desk tightly. His eyes really did look black in the light. "Vladimir," her voice was soft, "Are you ok?" She kneeled down beside him.

Vladimir closed his eyes, sighed deeply and let go of the desk. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. When he looked at her his eyes were his normal shade of brilliant blue. "Bad day," he said almost apologetically. He ran a hand though his black hair and sighed. "Ever feel like everything is getting on top of you?" He blurted out. He turned away from her. "Forget I said that." He went to pick up the book again.

Scarlett set her hand upon the book. "No," she said determinedly as she straightened up. "It's Friday. Let's have a drink in the college bar. Come on, you could do with a break." She picked up his jacket with her other hand. "I mean it." She said in mock warning as he reached for the book again. She laughed and moved in front of the desk standing between him and the book.

Her perfume washed over Vlad. He looked up at her and felt the burdens on his shoulders lighten somehow as she pretended to pout but couldn't successfully stop herself from smiling. Her mouth was red, full and sensual. Vlad closed his eyes again so she wouldn't see them blacken with desire. Opening them, he smiled wolfishly, slowly he stood up fully aware that there wasn't enough room and his body would be sliding against hers. Electricity sparked between them and he felt her sharp intake of breath at his closeness. Their lips were barely an inch apart. He could feel her breath on his mouth. For a very long moment they looked at each other. Vlad slid his hand over hers, his cool fingers encircling her wrist, he was barely touching her but he could feel her heartbeat racing. "You win," he smiled cockily at her and stepped away. "College bar it is." He hoped he showed no sign of how affected he was by her presence. Or of how much he was struggling with his dark side which was urging him to go much further. Normally the darkness was consumed with bloodlust but right now it was very much concerned with a different appetite.

Scarlett felt like her legs were going to give way. If that was how just being close to him affected her... He seemed completely unaware of his effect on her. Scarlett was grateful that the dim lighting of the library was obscuring her blushes. Taking a deep breath, she smiled back. "Let's go," she replied cheerfully.

* * *

Hours later the world had become a whirling mess of voices and blurred faces. Vlad laughed and downed yet another shot to cheers from his fellow students. He turned to the blonde girl by his side. "You're not Scarlett," he scowled suddenly. "Where is she?" Vlad remembered her being by his side. She had been drinking red wine. He looked around the bar but the faces now looked all the same. He tried to focus but using his powers just made him feel dizzy. He began laughing again. "Another round of shots!" he declared to the bartender His new friends all roared their approval.

Vlad downed another shot of something called tequila. Alcohol was amazing stuff. No wonder breathers enjoyed drinking so much. It turned the world into a wonderful place. A happy fuzzy place. He could feel the heat of the alcohol burning him from within. Mmm warmth, it had been a long time since he had felt that. Music had begun to blast out of the speakers. The blonde girl by Vlad's side was pulling him out onto the dance floor. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the bartender on his way. The lights flashed different colours in the darkness of the bar, he could smell all the different types of blood surrounding him, and feel the warmth of the girls surrounding him. Wait girls? Plural. Vlad chugged some more wine and looked around himself blearily. On one side of him was the pretty blonde girl from the bar and on the other a stunning brunette. Vlad smirked as they both tried to dance with him. What was it about a bad boy that attracted girls? Before he had merged with his dark side, girls just didn't seem to notice him. He offered the wine to the brunette. She swigged it suggestively and pulled him closer towards her. In the darkness of the bar it didn't matter if his eyes were black or if his fangs were slightly extended. Vlad hated dancing but with alcohol it suddenly seemed easy. No complicated Transylvanian steps to be learnt here, all you had to do was sway slightly to the music. The brunette moved closer, Vlad inhaled her perfume she smelt wrong, not like Scarlett. "No seriously," he turned back to the blonde. "Where is Scarlett?"

There was gentle pressure on his face. The brunette was trying to turn his head back to her. "She went home!" The brunette yelled over the music. "But we're still here." The blonde ran her fingers down Vlad's spine.

Vlad scowled in the darkness. He broke free of both girls and walked unsteadily towards the exit. This was unacceptable. It was Scarlett's idea that they go for a drink. Then she left him without even saying goodbye? Vlad growled in bad temper. Cloying perfume surrounded him as did a pair of soft warm arms. "Easy tiger," the brunette was laughing into his ear. "Save that for later." She winked at him as she led him back onto the dance floor. Vlad was angry again. He couldn't quite remember why. It was more than Scarlett but right now she was the only thing he could remember and so he was going to be angry with her for everything. It made perfect sense.

Vlad felt the warmth of the brunette's lips on his. He responded weakly at first but remembering Scarlett his response grew more enthusiastic. She didn't smell right, she didn't taste right, not like Scarlett or at least what he imagined Scarlett would taste like.

"I'm not Scarlett!" The brunette sounded annoyed. Perhaps he had actually said Scarlett's name out loud.

"I know that," Vlad sneered, a nasty look spreading over his face. He glowered at her and pulled away from her. Much to his surprise she threw herself at him and began kissing him again even more excitedly than before. When she paused for breath Vlad moved back to the bar and ordered more shots. He had already forgotten something, actually several things, he was annoyed at some people and someone in particular but the shots were making it better. He shook his head slightly, it felt hazy and heavy. His memories were all muddled. Vlad laughed slightly manically as the colours twirled around him. This was sweet oblivion.

* * *

Blood bright and vivid red flowed against her golden skin. At her fingertips the blood gathered in drops and fell onto the dark carpeting. Dispassionately, Scarlett watched the red drops disappear into the darkness. Tears were no longer streaming down her face but it was still wet and salty. Scarlett lay motionless on her bed watching the blood leave her body taking with it some of her pain and unhappiness. The numbness was spreading over her mind as well as her body. The room was quiet apart from the soft pit pat of her blood falling onto the carpet and the steady tick tock of her bedside clock. Outside her bedroom she could hear the birdsong which indicated dawn would be here shortly.

Scarlett forced herself to look at her arms. Smeared with blood, the angry welts of separated flesh looked much worse than they probably were. The guilt and shame would come later but for now the physical pain provided a blanket to her mind. Vladimir kissing another girl was relatively minor in the grand scheme of life. Rationally she knew it was no big deal so what if the only guy she liked in ages fancied someone else? It was tiny things though that sometimes just pulled the trigger. She could have called Charlie. Her best friend would have been here in a flash and Charlie understood about these sort of things. Very little scared or freaked Charlie out. Sometimes though this was the only way. It was damage limitation. Let a little of the pain out and then it wouldn't overwhelm you. When she picked up the knife she was full of rage and despair spiralling out of control. Now she was empty, all emotions except a dull aching sense of worthlessness. Calmly Scarlett sat up. She felt a little light headed but she knew she wouldn't have lost that much blood. Time to clean herself up. Disinfect her wounds. Hide the evidence. Her thoughts were cold and clinical. She was back in control now. The water in the sink turned red as she washed her arms and the cuts on her arms were stinging badly. It was merely a reminder that a price had to be paid for control.

* * *

The world was becoming less fuzzy and not in a good way. He could sense that the sunlight was coming. He needed to go. Vlad sat up sharply, movements made him feel nauseous but guessing from the birdsong he didn't have much time left. He began pulling on his clothes and then stopped as he took in the state of the room. The wardrobe door had a considerable dent in it, clothes were scattered everywhere, and some of them looked ripped. Vlad groaned as he had flashbacks of the night. Horror flitted through him at how out of control he had been. He panicked for a moment- had he bitten anyone? He sniffed the air there was no lingering scent of blood. He turned back towards the bed. Blonde hair streamed across the pillow as the female in the bed yawned and turned over onto her other side. She patted the side of bed that theoretically he should be occupying right now. Her eyes fluttered open. "Leaving already?" she drawled. She flung back the duvet. "Come back." She pouted alluringly.

Vlad just looked at her in confusion. He thought he had gone home with the brunette. He spun around as the door to the bathroom opened. Ow- moving fast not a good idea. The brunette stood in the doorway between the bedroom and the ensuite bathroom wrapped in a decidedly skimpy towel.

Vlad looked between from one girl to the other. Oh _right_. "OK," he said slowly as more of the evening flashed before his eyes. "So that was fun. Thanks." He grabbed his leather jacket and moved towards the doorway.

The blonde sat up abruptly. "You're leaving now?" The loudness of her voice made Vlad wince slightly. "Without your shoes?" She looked pointedly at Vlad's bare feet.

Vlad glanced at the window, it was becoming brighter outside, and he really hadn't the time to do this. By the looks of it they were both unbitten. He couldn't remember biting anyone else. Nothing to sort out then. "Yeah. Bye!" He left the room too quickly for her to try and stop him but not so quickly that he missed her calling him a bastard.

Vlad ran down the staircase, he glanced outside through the window, the sky was now a light gray, time was running out. At the bottom of the stairwell he ran into a quad. It took him a moment to grasp his bearings. Where was he? The plain quad looked vaguely familiar; he ran along the cloisters at the end and found himself in the gardens of Winterville. Good, he knew how to fly home from here. Vlad closed his eyes for a second and tried to focus. He still felt slightly drunk. Ugh, this was going to be one unpleasant journey home. He spun around at the soft sound of a booted foot on the grass. The slayer threw a pointed stake at him. Vlad sighed exaggeratedly and waved the stake out of the air before it even come within yards of him. "Don't bore me," he snarled at the slayer, his eyes glittering a fierce red.

The slayer threw something small, round and plastic at Vlad. He caught it easily, he laughed with scorn when he opened his hand. A plastic garlic bulb. "Seriously, did you actually think that was going to work?" Vlad smelled the garlic gas that being emitted. Garlic bombs, wasn't the Guild creative? He inhaled the garlic gas deeply enjoying the panic stricken look that swept over the slayer's face. Any normal vampire would be unconscious by now. Vlad threw the plastic bulb away. Baring his fangs, Vlad stepped forwards his prey then he suddenly had the oddest sensation of falling, the ground was coming up to meet him far too quickly for him to stop it and blackness descended.

**Chapter 5 teaser**

_'It was a world of blackness and rain. The only warmth in the world was Scarlett. The only sound apart from the rain was her heartbeat.' _


	6. Chapter 5

**_Uploading a day earlier than planned Hope no-one minds. xo_  
**

**Chapter 5**

Golden shadows flitted against the warm darkness of Vlad's eyes. A familiar scent enveloped him. Scarlett. Scarlett who would one rainy night look into his eyes and terrify him. Scarlett who had a pulse but didn't smell like a breather. Scarlett the temptress with her soft red lips. He couldn't trust anyone including her. Perhaps especially her.

"Shush, it's ok Vladimir." Her lilting voice surrounded him. He could feel her warm hand brush against his forehead. He moved towards her voice, the golden light grew brighter but it didn't hurt. He felt her hand slip into his and he grasped it tightly as the light faded away to darkness.

* * *

The blade was poised over the vampire boy's heart. It gleamed a strange metallic blue. Sam raised the blade in the air, he needed one clean strike and then the vampire would be powerless pinned to the ground. Even if he resumed consciousness, it was nearly dawn. Sunlight was already pouring over the garden. He would stand here and watch the evil bastard die.

"What the hell are you doing?" A girl was running across the garden. He recognised her as one of the students from the college. Sam looked at her and then back at the vampire. "Look just go now," he ordered. "You don't need to see this." He raised the knife and plunged it.

Her hands surrounded his, stopping the knife a mere inch from the vampire's chest. Sam looked up, his eyes meeting Scarlett's. Her eyes were a blazing blue, like the hottest of flames. She was surprisingly strong having managed to halt the progress of the knife. Sam struggled with her but her grip remained steady on his hands.

"Get away from him now." The words were deathly quiet and each word hit him mentally as powerful as a physical blow. Sam's hands weakened on the knife and that was all the advantage Scarlett needed. She twisted the knife out of his hands and threw it behind her. Sam moved instinctively towards it in an attempt to grab the knife again. Scarlett gripped his jaw, he gasped in pain and shock, she rose up forcing him to stand with her. Still holding onto him firmly, she stepped forward forcing him to walk backwards. "Now." She repeated. She released him and he staggered back.

"You don't know what he is!" Sam shouted but he didn't approach Vladimir's body again. He was watching Scarlett with a look of fear on his face.

"How about defenceless?" she roared back at him. "He's unconscious and you had a knife." She stood between him and the vampire. A young women with untidy blonde hair, a half open long black coat with her scarf laying on the grass behind. Theoretically he could easily tackle her but something about her made him hesitate.

Sam licked his lips. Maybe he should try another approach. "Are you his girlfriend?" he challenged her. "Was it your room he was just coming out of?" He observed her tiny intake of breath at his words. "Didn't think so. OK I'll go, you can even walk me out of the college." He watched the sunlight touch the edges of the lawn. Within minutes it would consume the vampire. "But if you ask me, you just should leave him there. Let him sleep it off in the garden. You can smell the drink from here. It'll serve him right for cheating on you." Sam backed towards the cloisters keeping an eye on the sun's advance.

"Get out." Sam obeyed her order and made a run for it. Scarlett watched him flee. She turned around and looked down at the unconscious Vladimir her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

* * *

It was a world of blackness and rain. The only warmth in the world was Scarlett. The only sound apart from the rain was her heartbeat. Vlad was waiting for her to speak and the world was poised on a knife edge. The vision began to fade and golden shadows once again flitted across the inside of his eyelids.

Vlad groaned as he began to regain consciousness. A cold wet cloth was pressed against his forehead. His stomach felt as if he had drained an entire peasant mob and then decided to go on rollercoaster – repeatedly. As his eyes fluttered open, Scarlett came into vision. In the dimness it looked like she was surrounded with a golden glow. She leaned over him, her warm fingers pressed against his neck. It took Vlad a few seconds to realise that she was probably trying to take his pulse. He grabbed her hand and heard her sharp gasp. "Hi," he whispered.

"Thank goodness!" Scarlett sighed with relief. "You're ok. I was beginning to panic!"

Still holding onto her hand, Vlad sat up slightly. "What happened?" he asked.

"You had an accident." Vlad raised his eyebrows. Scarlett giggled unexpectedly then pressed her other hand to her mouth. "No it's not funny. You tripped and fell in the garden." Another giggle escaped from behind her fingers.

Vlad grimaced. So much for being the all powerful Chosen One. There he was showing off to some random slayer, look at me Mr Slayer, garlic gas doesn't affect me but don't worry you can slay me when I trip and fall on my face instead. Impressive. "I looked like a prat, didn't I?" His stomach was still churning, he felt like he wanted to be physically sick. He sat up more quickly and scanned the unfamiliar room. "Do you have a bathroom? I don't feel very well."

Scarlett gestured towards a door. "En suite bathroom. Do you want me to..." she faltered as Vlad stumbled across the room and very firmly slammed the door shut. She heard retching. She could almost feel sympathy for him. She knocked on the door. "Vladimir, are you ok?" she called to him. There was just silence. She tried the door handle. It was locked. "Vladimir? Come on you have to let me in. What if you choke?"

The bolt on the door slid back and Vlad stood in the doorway. He looked shambolic, his dark hair all messy, his clothes crumpled and some unbuttoned. A complete mess. An incredibly sexy mess. "I really don't think I'm going to die of choking." A wicked grin suddenly spread over his face.

Scarlett tried her best to suppress her reaction to him. "You should go to hospital. You might have concussion." She looked down at his bare feet. "And you seemed to have lost your shoes."

Vlad leant against the doorway. Judging from the brightness of the light against the curtains, it was still early morning. He couldn't have been unconscious for that long but it would have been long enough for the dawn to turn him into dust as he lay unconscious. Scarlett didn't know it but she had saved his unlife. "Thanks Scarlett."

His gratitude seemed to temporarily disarm her. Her voice softened slightly. "Look I really think you should go to hospital. You hit your head, you were unconscious, you were sick. Concussion can be really serious." She moved across the room and began to pull open the curtains. Chinks of sunlight filtered into the room.

"Er actually could you keep them shut please?" Vlad said in alarm. He raised a hand to his head. "I would appreciate the dimness right now."

Scarlett pulled the curtains back together tightly. "Hangovers tend to have that effect," she said dryly.

Apart from being sleep deprived, Vlad was actually feeling much better but he knew he should pretend that he still felt ill otherwise it would appear odd. "I hate hospitals. If you're that worried you could keep an eye on me for a couple of hours," he smiled cheekily.

Scarlett raised her eyebrows sharply. "Oh really?" Her voice was laden with sarcasm. "Maybe you should knock on the door of the person you were with last night? Maybe they would like to keep an eye on you." She folded her arms and glared at him.

Vlad quickly stopped smiling. "Sorry," he mumbled dropping his gaze to the floor. "I'll call Roberts and he will come and collect me."

"Better tell him to bring you new clothes." Scarlett looked over his appearance and shook her head. Jealousy stabbed through her at the thought of one of those other girls unbuttoning his shirt. She couldn't blame her, whoever her was, for practically ripping Vlad's clothes off. Goodness knows, she would if she had the chance.

Vlad peeked up at her. It was such a penitent little boy lost look and Scarlett felt her insides melt. "You should have a shower. Clean yourself up. I've got a spare dressing gown that you can borrow. I'll make you something to eat. Then you can call your butler at a reasonable hour. Poor man being woke up at this time of the morning." Scarlett went into her dressing room and pulled out towels and a fluffy black bathrobe from her wardrobe. Returning she placed them in Vlad's unresisting arms. "You better leave the door unlocked."

Vlad's mouth curled up in a deliciously wicked smile.

"In case you lose consciousness, collapse and drown," said Scarlett firmly.

Vlad looked repentant again. He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Scarlett gazed at the door longingly. Just her luck to fancy the college playboy.

* * *

The hot water cascaded over Vlad. He stretched his muscles as the heat of the water soothed the pains of his wild night out. Alcohol wasn't really a vampire beverage but he could definitely understand its attraction to breathers. Last night had been fun, colours seemed duller, his emotions clouded and he had temporarily forgotten who he was. That had been a good sensation. He also definitely now understood the phrase in the cold light of the morning. He nearly died this morning. By an unknown nobody of a slayer. Vlad shivered slightly when he realised how close he had come to losing his unlife. Whatever else his vision about Scarlett meant, at this moment in time she was an ally. She had saved his life without even knowing how significant her act of kindness was. Turning off the shower and wrapping the towel around himself, Vlad promised that he would do something in return to thank her.

Vlad emerged from the bathroom in the black dressing gown. He took a moment to properly survey his surroundings. Her room was considerably nicer than the one he had left this morning. Scarlett's room was much larger and airy with a huge bay window and a window seat. Her writing desk was clear apart from a laptop which seemed to playing a film. A sofa lay alongside the wall on one side with a coffee table and extra armchairs on the other. Red definitely seemed to be Scarlett's favourite colour. The thought had crossed his mind a couple of times. Could Scarlett be a vampire? It would explain why she didn't smell like a breather. But he knew it was unrealistic, he had seen her in the daylight, he could sense her heartbeat. It bothered him though, He filed away the question and resolved to ask his father later.

Scarlett was curled up on her bed, half reading a book and half watching the film on the laptop. She looked up at him and smiled. He could feel her heartbeat accelerate. "I've made you Charlie's hangover cure," she gestured at a large pint glass sitting on the top of her bookshelf.

Vlad picked it up and looked at the frothy pinkness. It smelt like raspberries. He sipped some of it. Delicious. "Charlie?" He asked tentatively. Of course Scarlett would have a boyfriend. Vlad felt his mood darken and he frowned without realising it.

"Yeah. Her not so secret recipe. It does work though." Scarlett set down her book. "We used to always have it after a big night out. We don't drink so much now though."

Considerably cheered up, Vlad sat on the edge of her bed as he sipped his drink. "It's really good." He loved breather food, something his father could never understand. "What are you watching?"

"An old Hollywood classic." She patted the space on the bed beside her and Vlad moved over to sit properly beside her. "I love the old Hollywood, so glamorous and elegant."

They sat together watching the film. Relaxed and his stomach full, Vlad tried and failed to fight the urge to fall asleep. He found himself slipping into the dreamworld.

* * *

A few hours later, he woke up with his head resting on Scarlett's shoulder. From the sound of her breathing, she too had fallen asleep. Slightly embarrassed Vlad pulled back. He had somehow managed to curl himself around her, his head on her chest, his arm flung across her stomach, his legs tangled with hers. As he gazed down at the sleeping Scarlett, Vlad could feel the bolt of wanting burn through him. He ran his fingers down the side of her face, her skin was velvety soft, tracing her mouth with his finger Vlad longed to kiss her. He swallowed hard as he sought to regain control over his emotions. He thought about kissing her, wondered how sweet she would taste, imagined her awakening during his kiss and pulling him closer. He thought about doing the things with her that he had done last night with those other girls. He imagined her whispering his name in his ear, crying out his name as he screwed her. With considerable effort, Vlad pulled himself away from her and lay back on the bed. He took a deep breath and counted to ten. Breather techniques. He told himself that it wouldn't be like with Scarlett. She didn't seem to feel that way about him. Screwing her was not a thank you. It was simply taking even more from her.

She stirred beside him and Vlad fought to control his body as she pressed slightly against him. He moved onto his side so that he was facing her again but made sure there was a considerable amount of space separating their bodies. He had a feeling that if she noticed how aroused he was, he would be doing himself no favours.

"Hey", she said softly. "Wow, I really needed that nap!" She looked across at Vlad. "Feeling any better?"

Vlad nodded speechlessly. He didn't trust himself to speak at this moment.

Scarlett slid down the bed so that she was face to face with him. "So what was going on last night?" she asked.

Vlad looked at her warily. "What do you mean?"

"Something was up with you in the library. Then we go to the bar and you were drinking," she paused, "You were drinking like someone with a problem."

"I'm not an alcoholic," replied Vlad a touch of defiance in his voice."

"I know. You told me repeatedly, that this was your first time drinking alcohol. That's not what I meant. You were drinking like someone who wanted to forget who he was. I'm not judging. I've been there. I have friends who have been there."

"Where did you go?" Vlad changed tact. Attack was the best form of defence.

"Bed. I tried to reason with you but you were too busy having tequila shots with your new best buddies." Not to mention snogging the face off some other girl.

She didn't say the words but Vlad knew she was thinking about him with those other girls. "I wanted you to stay," he said stubbornly.

"Well I didn't want to." Scarlett met his gaze. "I only suggested a drink so that we could have a chat. You seemed upset about something. You said 'Ever feel like everything is getting on top of you?'" She repeated his words from the night before.

Vlad scowled. He flipped over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "I don't want to talk about it."

"OK. But if you do. I'm here for you." Scarlett sat up. "Fancy some cheese on toast? It's my favourite comfort food when I'm not feeling well."

Vlad blinked at her sudden change in direction. He raised himself slightly onto his elbow. "Yeah, that would be great. That's like pizza but without garlic?"

"Yes." Scarlett stood up.

"Thanks." Vlad wanted to explain. He couldn't tell her the truth. It would place her in danger if she knew who and what he was. He reached out and grasped her arm. "Scarlett I want to..." he noticed her wince of pain. The scent of blood drifted faintly into the air. Rising to his feet, Vlad pulled up the sleeve of her top to expose her arm to the light. Vicious cuts crisscrossed her arm. Blood was seeping into the fabric of her top. Vlad's throat grew dry at the sight of the red liquid. He forced away the hunger and touched her arm with incredible gentleness. "Who did this?" he demanded angrily. "Tell me who they are and I will sort them out." Anger was exploding in him at the thought of anyone hurting her.

Scarlett's mouth was trembling. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp. "No-one." Her voice was wobbly with tears.

The truth hit Vlad and his eyes widened in comprehension. "Scarlett," he said her name in anguish. "Oh Scarlett."

She pulled her arm from his grasp causing her cuts to bleed more profusely. She quickly covered the cuts again and looked at him with blazing defiance in her eyes.

"Why?" Vlad moved towards her.

Cradling her arm, Scarlett glared at him. "I don't know what you mean." Her words were a harsh snarl, very unlike her usual soft melody. "Just back off!"

Vlad stared at her for a long moment. She looked tired and drained. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy like she had been crying. The sparkling golden girl with her laugh, her beauty and her endless compassion for others faded away leaving this smaller, more fragile creature. He caught a glimpse of the darkness and despair in her eyes and suddenly felt like she would understand. Vlad stalked over to her and roughly pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly against him both seeking and giving comfort.

* * *

**Chapter 6 teaser**

_'The High Council was full of power hungry maniacs who would suck the life out of anything and anyone to get their own way. And he should know, he was one of them.'_


	7. Chapter 6

_**Since I updated a day early on Saturday, why not? Thank you so much for the reviews. Please do let me know if you would like me to reply personally as I am not sure of the site etiquette and I don't want you guys to think I don't appreciate your feedback.**_** xo **

**Chapter 6**

"Where is the Chosen One?" thundered Count Barrack. He slammed his hand on the table. The rest of the High Council murmured in approval.

Count Dracula glowered at Barrack before scanning the rest of the room glaring at each council member until they slowly quietened. "You know where," he replied haughtily.

"No, we don't! All we know is that the Chosen One hasn't been seen for weeks." Count Barrack remained standing.

"And you know why." Count Dracula leaned forward in his seat. "The Chosen One has gone to seek the source. It's written into his destiny. A task which we all needed him to perform. A task that each and every one of you accepted was his role and his alone."

"He could be dead." Count Barrack was refusing to back down. "And here we are accepting orders from you."

"I was regent for over four years," Count Dracula drawled.

"You haven't been communicating with him. Where is the proof that he is still undead?" Barrack roared.

"Don't raise your voice to me." Count Dracula said in a chilling tone. "How do you know whether we have been communicating? Sounds like somebody has been playing I spy." Barrack stepped back slightly at Count Dracula's accusation. "The Chosen One would not be pleased to hear of such treachery." The Count took a scroll of paper from his robes. "Here is a copy of a letter sent to the Slayers' Guild. You will find my son's signature at the bottom."

Barrack picked up the paper in disbelief. "But how?" he stared at the signature of Vladimir Dracula.

"My son is the Chosen One. Does it surprise you that he finds the means to avoid your spies?" The Count looked bored. He waved at Barrack to sit down and the irritable clan leader did so. "If you have to see his orders in writing, that can be arranged."

"We want to see him," Ramanga spoke in his deep voice. "And no faking it Dracula."

The Count glared at Ramanga. Would he ever tire of reminding him about that one little slip up? He had only faked his son's presence once.

"That's not all," Tai spoke up. "We would feel more comfortable if the Chosen One had a member of the High Council with him."

"Well I can't go. Vladimir left me in charge." The Count dismissed her with another wave of his hand.

"No, of course you are too busy and important to leave matters of state. However I have less responsibility on my shoulders and I'm more than willing to serve the Chosen One." Tai gave the rest of the High Council a wicked smile.

The Count raised a scornful eyebrow. This was what happened when you let women onto the High Council. Devious, conniving and treacherous creatures. "I'll put your request to my son."

"I still want to see the Chosen One," said Barrack. Murmurs of agreement followed his statement. All the other clan leaders looked pointedly at Count Dracula.

He shrugged. "Then he will throw a Halloween Ball. He shall abandon his crucially important task of saving our skins to make an appearance on Halloween in order to satisfy your petulant demands." The Count smiled patronisingly. "Save the date. As for your offer of assistance Tai, I will speak to Vladimir. Do not be surprised if he rejects you. My son gives the orders, he doesn't take them. Now I think it's time we moved onto the decidedly more pleasurable part of the evening - drinks and nibbles."

* * *

The deep red of the rose petals was like velvet under her finger tips. Scarlett sighed deeply as she stroked the beautiful roses Vladimir had sent her. His note was plain and simple '_Thank you Vlad x_'. Scarlett tried to suppress her joyful smile.

"Wow." Charlie shook her head her dark hair dancing across her face. "Just wow!"

"I know!" Scarlett hugged herself in delight. She beamed across the roses at Charlie. "Aren't they beautiful? I've never gotten roses before."

Charlie snapped a photo of the roses on her phone. "I'm just going to remind Robin of his duties as a good boyfriend. I want flowers!"

Tamara set down her magazine. "So what did you do?" she asked bluntly. "Why is he thanking you?"

"Just for looking after him when he wasn't well." Scarlett looked at Tamara in confusion. Why was she trying to find something negative about Vladimir sending her flowers? Tamara had been so moody lately.

"Really that's all?" Tamara smiled cynically. "I guess Donna won't be happy when she sees them." Tamara gestured towards to the roses. "Or Sarah for that matter."

Charlie narrowed her eyes and glared at Tamara before turning to Scarlett. "It's a rumour; you know what college is like for rumours. Probably just kissed both of them in the bar. Anyone fancy another cup of tea?" Charlie reached for Scarlett's mug.

Scarlett deliberately kept her mug out of reach. "What rumour?" She looked from Charlie to Tamara.

Charlie shot another glare at Tamara. "Apparently," she said reluctantly, "Count slept with Donna and Ellie on Friday."

"What? Two girls in one night?" Scarlett exclaimed. She made a face of disgust. "Oh ugh!"

"You know Scarlett sometimes your convent upbringing is so obvious." Tamara flicked her long shiny hair over her shoulder. "Not separately. Both of them. At the same time. As in threesome."

Scarlett dropped her mug. "What?"

Charlie groaned.

"I was speaking to Donna. She said he was an arrogant bastard. When they were finished, he just got up, got dressed and walked out. Just said it was fun! Given Donna's reputation, I don't know what _you_ had to do to get flowers!" Tamara tutted in mock disapproval as she reopened her magazine.

Charlie ripped the magazine from Tamara's hands and swatted her with it. "Shut up Tams!" she hissed. "You should know better than to engage in college gossip. It's a poisonous pastime."

"Ouch! What?" demanded Tamara. "She deserves to know what sort of person he is. Lovely sweet Vladimir pah! Total scumbag! I mean come on Scarlett, you have the whole religious thing going on and he's clearly a womaniser. Don't get your hopes up sweetie, that all I'm saying."

Scarlett pressed a hand to her stomach. "Oh I feel sick."

Charlie grabbed both of her friend's hands. "OK, so Count got drunk and copped off with two girls. It's not really a big deal."

"Yeah it is. It's gross," Tamara interjected. "I mean who wants Donna's leftovers?"

"TAMS!" Charlie snapped.

"Well it is!" insisted Tamara. "Come on Scarlett! You are all chastity and oh my goodness a threesome!" Tamara rolled her eyes in contempt. "I wouldn't be a real friend if I let you lie to yourself in this way. You are a bit weird when it comes to sex- you don't put it about. Vlad is clearly into stuff that you wouldn't ever dream of doing. So fancying him is a waste of time. You're only going to get hurt."

"Tams, get out!" Charlie ordered.

Tamara grabbed back her magazine and stormed off.

Charlie turned back to Scarlett. "Are you ok? No, stupid question obviously." She stroked her friends' hands.

"I suspected that he had...um well it's just different when it's confirmed," Scarlett said softly, her eyes suspiciously bright. "Tams has a point though. I am stupid to fancy someone who is clearly out of my league."

"There is no such thing such as leagues. People are attracted to different things and so what if it's true about Vlad? It doesn't mean that he doesn't fancy you. He's what? Twenty years old. Away from home. Full of tequila and with any number of girls ready to serve it on a plate to him. I mean what heterosexual twenty year old lad is going to turn that down?!"

Scarlett made a sound that was half sob and half giggle.

"Lads do not send roses for no good reason. OK so maybe he had sex with another girl. Or two. But he's single and free to do whatever he likes within the realms of informed consent given by adults. He spent the entire day with you yesterday and it sounds like you had a pretty cosy time of it. That's more meaningful than drunken sex. Don't judge him yet," Charlie said earnestly.

"Argh! I hate it when you are so fair and rational!" complained Scarlett. She knew Charlie had a point and that was what made it so annoying.

"I'm sorry. What do you want me to say? Vlad Count is the root of all evil and I will destroy him by kicking him in the balls with my sharpest stilettos?" Charlie was only half joking.

"Yeah. Please." Scarlett couldn't keep a straight face and began to laugh.

Charlie let go of her hands, her impish face grew serious. "Long sleeves today. You know you can talk to me." She picked up Scarlett's mug.

Scarlett avoided eye contact. "Yeah," she whispered.

"I think we should get some ice cream. GnDs? Fancy a triple chocolate sundae?" Charlie gave her a hug. "And they really are the most beautiful roses I've ever seen."

* * *

Thunder and lightning surrounded the castle. Count Dracula was letting everyone know that he was in a terrible mood. He hated that the High Council no longer showed him any respect. As soon as Vlad's eighteenth birthday arrived, the Count had been propelled out of power. The High Council was full of power hungry maniacs who would suck the life out of anything and anyone to get their own way. And he should know, he was one of them. Vlad's presence was greatly missed. He missed his son immensely. They had never been parted for this long before. The Count couldn't ignore the concerns of the High Council regarding his son's welfare because he was deeply concerned too. For two days now, his son had not turned up in the dreamworld.

Now Tai was pushing herself forward as a companion to the Chosen One. She sought prestige and glory by associating herself more closely to their leader. The Count's lip curled in disgust. He couldn't predict his son's reaction either. If anyone should be by Vladdy's side, it was him, Count Dracula, his father and trusted advisor. Tonight it was Tai, tomorrow it would be another member of the High Council. The Count feared for his son's safety. He had sat back and waited for weeks whilst his son and heir put his unlife in danger. No more. It was time he took action and out-thwarted both his son and the High Council.

* * *

Vlad worked alone in the library that evening. When he arrived Scarlett was absent from her usual spot. Vlad was surprised at how much he missed her presence. Without either of them consciously deciding to do so, they had fallen into a routine of working together. They gathered the necessary books and sat together because it was convenient. They began discussing which books had been useful. They swapped notes. Vlad would stay and work after Scarlett left to go to sleep and sometimes left her a note to say he had taken a book home or that she should look at this section of the manuscript. Vlad found himself looking forward to spending the evenings with Scarlett. When she left, the library seemed cold and lonely. He found himself dreading that time of the night, when she would sleepily rub her eyes and declare her work done for the night. He noticed how she wore her hair all swept up in a prim bun and then after about fifteen minutes into studying, she would loosen it and her hair would fall around her filling the air around them with her perfume. He noticed that she wrote with an elegant silver fountain pen rather than a biro and the ink would stain her fingers.

Vlad flung down his pen. He couldn't concentrate on the manuscript in front of him. All he could think about was Scarlett. He felt restless and irritable. Deciding that tonight would be a write off, Vlad scribbled a note to Scarlett and then left the library. At the entrance he collided with the object of his thoughts.

"Scarlett!" He was acutely aware that his response was far too enthusiastic. He reached out his hands to steady her as he nearly knocked her over.

"Vladimir," she responded her voice light and teasing. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yes, I mean no, I was going to take a break. How was your day?" he changed the subject quickly. He realised that he was still holding onto her and hurriedly let go.

"Good. Thank you for the roses." Her smile was radiant. She touched his arm lightly. "They were so beautiful. You didn't need to thank me."

"No, trust me I really did," Vlad said firmly. He glanced over her appearance. The soft vulnerable Scarlett of yesterday had gone. The cool and confident young woman was back in her place complete with the red lipstick and tightly constrained hair. "How was your day?" he asked again. Scarlett gave him a sceptical look. Vlad backtracked. "Sorry, I asked that already. Bit tired today, I reckon I should get tea. Would you like tea too?"

"Sure. Fancy going somewhere else instead of the common room?" Scarlett began walking with him. "I know this lovely cafe. It's in an old Georgian house off the high street. Best chocolate brownies ever."

"Chocolate brownies, I'm sold." Vlad walked with her all feelings of irritability and restlessness suddenly gone.

A priest passed them as they walked into the cafe. "Good evening, Father James," Scarlett nodded to him respectfully. The priest declined his head in greeting. "Good evening Scarlett." The priest's eyes flickered over Vlad, and he had the uncomfortable sensation that the priest knew what he was but the priest continued to smile at them as he walked past.

"That's one of the priests at my church. He is a really lovely man." Scarlett tugged on his arm. "Come on, maybe we can nab a place by the fire."

The fireplace a prime location was already taken so they nestled into a corner with hot steaming cups of tea and thick slabs of chocolate brownies. Vlad adored the taste of chocolate. His vampire transformation hadn't changed his preference for breather food and chocolate was probably the best breather food of all.

Eating the brownies also helped Vlad and Scarlett avoid actually talking to each other about Saturday. Both of them knew that the other was pretending that their demons didn't exist, both of them were reluctant to talk about their respective demons and therefore both of them understood the other's silence. However it didn't stop both of them being intensely curious about what the other one was hiding.

"Sorry to be geeky." Scarlett licked the chocolate off her fingertips and fixed Vlad with a determined look. "But can we talk about the research project?"

Vlad was instantly alert. "Yes, go ahead."

Scarlett gazed thoughtfully into her cup of tea before speaking. "So basically this source that Professor Teverson is researching is based on a prophecy about vampires and the end of the world which incidentally sounds like a good disaster movie. Maybe she should think about selling the story to Hollywood? Three thousand years ago a race of vampires dominated the world. Humanity rose up against the vampires and there was a terrible war. Somehow humanity created a source of power to use against the vampires which wiped most of them out of existence. The vampires fall from grace and no longer rule the world," Scarlett intoned the words with mock seriousness as if she were speaking for a film trailer. "Ancient human civilisation is able to take form and we have history as we know it. Nice bit of mythology but then it falls to take account of the great ancient civilisations like Egypt who would have existed around that period." Scarlett frowned for a moment as she tried to remember the earliest dates of the various ancient civilisations.

"Egypt is sunny," Vlad remarked flippantly.

Scarlett laughed softly. "So world domination excluding the sunny countries?"

"I imagine they had to prioritise their resources." Vlad shrugged. "So the prophecy is that the vampires will try to rise again because of some special vampire leader." He tried to keep his voice casual which was difficult given the bizarre nature of this conversation

"Oh yes! The Chosen One!" Scarlett exclaimed as she remembered the official title from her history notes. "He or she will lead vampires to world domination again which is not good news for humankind. So naturally the humans have to use the source to zap the vampires and restore world order. It sounds fascinating! Ok it sounds fascinating to a history geek like me. But some of it doesn't make sense." Scarlett picked up the teapot and poured them fresh cups of tea.

Vlad frowned with concern at the direction this conversation was taking. "What do you mean?"

"For starters, it's really bugging me that Professor Teverson hasn't shown us the prophecy. Surely we need to know what it says before we start researching. And the stuff that we are doing now doesn't feel right." Scarlett sighed and leant back in her armchair. She pulled down her hair and began to twist the strands around her fingers as she thought aloud. "She has us researching general myths about sources of power and destruction but it's too vague. If it was me, I'd start by researching the original vampire/human confrontation. Surely there would be some description as to what the source is in those stories. I don't think this general literature review of myths getting us anywhere. It's as if Professor Teverson is deliberately fudging the issue." Scarlett looked up at Vlad and smiled ruefully. "You must think I'm dreadfully big headed. There I go questioning the expert's methods."

"No," Vlad said slowly, "I think you are right but the confrontation happened nearly three thousand years ago. How would we research that?"

"The book on vampires in Rome mentioned some scrolls that I would be interested in studying. The Bathius Blood papers. I have also found reference to them in sources from Ancient Greece and Egypt texts. The Bodleian Library has copies of them. We bought copies in the nineteenth century from a baroness in Russia. The problem is gaining access to them. The Bodleian Library will have them under the strictest surveillance. I think there are other leads as well but we would need to gain access to rare materials not generally available to undergraduates."

"I think we could gain access to the scrolls," Vlad said with a slight smirk. "Trust me, I'll pull some strings." He was impressed by Scarlett's knowledge. The name Bathius stirred up a faint memory in his mind. He remembered reading about it in the papers he had received from Dhvani. Scarlett's thoughts sounded much more like the research that he should be doing rather than the work Professor Teverson had given him.

"Maybe she is just giving us the easy stuff to keep us occupied until she locates the actual prophecy," Scarlett mused. "Do you really think that you can get us access?"

Vlad nodded confidently. "This way we could prove to her we are not just a couple of kids to be placated. Tell me where we need to look and I will sort it out for you."

"I just want to know more about this myth. It's a fascinating story and I want to know where it comes from." Scarlett sipped her tea and sat back in her armchair.

"Bodleian library tomorrow evening then?" Vlad asked. He picked up another chocolate brownie and bit into it. "Wow, these are amazing."

* * *

The librarian led them along the winding corridors behind the scenes of the Bodleian Library. The sound of their footsteps was swallowed up by the soft carpets. The librarian tapped the code into the keypad on the door and ushered them into a dark room. "Please only use the lights provided in this room, they have been specifically designed to reduce harm to the parchment. She handed Vlad and Scarlett white gloves to reduce any damage to the paper. "The door will lock automatically when you leave. I will be checking the papers for any damage so be careful!" With that warning the librarian left them alone.

"You weren't kidding about how seriously Oxford takes its security," Vlad complained.

Scarlett pulled on the white gloves. "We can't photocopy the papers for obvious reasons so if I read them out to you, can you transcribe?" She began to unfold the layers of issue paper surrounding the parchment until the first of the yellowed pages of parchment was exposed. The writing was a dull rusty red against the yellow paper. "Supposedly written in blood hence the title," Scarlett murmured as she gently traced the writing.

Vlad looked over her shoulder. "Wait a minute that's Aramaic!" he exclaimed as he recognised the ancient vampiric language. It was a language mostly lost to the vampires only a few scholars specialising in it.

Scarlett looked up at him clearly impressed. "Yes."

"How do you know it? It's supposed to be a lost language. It's contested as to whether it's even a real language. How could you possibly know it?" Vlad demanded. What he really meant was how could a breather possibly know an ancient vampiric language but he couldn't say that.

Scarlett was absorbed in the reading the parchment. "Oh my father taught me," she said vaguely as she gently unfolded the next page. "Oh but this is wonderful." She gave him an excited smile. "We have a description of the fall of the vampires."

_A red sky stretched above our heads. The ground beneath our feet was red with the blood of our enemies. We celebrated by drinking and bathing in the scarlet rivers of blood. The ones who breathed were slain and darkness was restored to its righteous place. Then the light appeared on the horizon, dawn danced with the black night as the red faded. The ones who breathe approached us. The light shielded them from our thirst and one stepped forward. Our eyes begged not to gaze upon it. The one who breathed held a star from the heavens. The world exploded with the light of the sun piercing our hearts._

**Chapter 7 teaser**

_'Sometimes she wondered if reality was similar, if you could just tear it apart and it would continue to swirl around you.'_


	8. Chapter 7

_**Thanks for the reviews. They really do mean so much to me. Just knowing that there are some people out there reading (and enjoying!) my story is pretty amazing! **_

_** xo**_

**Chapter 7**

The Bodleian hummed with quiet noise, the shuffling of feet, the flick of pages and the muffled coughs of the students who were frantically trying to finish their work before the library closed. Vlad walked in silence beside Scarlett. He would have liked to attempt conversation particularly on the subject of her remarkable ability to read Aramaic but she was deep in thought after translating the Bathius Blood papers. She drifted off the path and towards one of the magnificent windows of the library. Standing on her tiptoes, she looked out of the window onto the courtyard below. "Isn't beautiful?" she whispered to Vlad as he came to stand behind her.

Vlad looked out at the scene below. "Yes," he agreed.

Scarlett turned to him. "Living somewhere so beautiful, sometimes you can forget to stop a moment and appreciate it. I try my best not to let that happen."

Vlad turned sharply as a darkly cloaked man approached him. Dropping dramatically to his knee, the vampire bowed before Vlad. "Your Highness. My name is Dmitri Yekaterin. I have been sent by your father."

Vlad snapped his fingers freezing the world for the surrounding breathers. "What?" he demanded his voice growing cold.

Dmitri kept his head bowed. "I am here to serve as your protector."

"Rise," Vlad ordered with a wave of his arm. "I don't need protection. You are released from your obligations."

Dmitri rose to his feet with agile grace. "I cannot be released Your Highness." He pulled aside the collar of his coat to reveal a scar. "I belong to your father. I am loyal to him. I must follow his orders to protect you."

Vlad's eyes narrowed on seeing the scar on the man's neck. It appeared his father had sent a half fang to protect him. A half fang of his own creation so that the vampire would be loyal to the Count before all others. "You may be loyal to my father but I am still your ruler and I order you to leave." Vlad's voice deepened unnaturally echoing around the library and his eyes flashed black.

Dmitri remained standing before Vlad. "Your Highness, I cannot leave you," he said politely but firmly. He pushed up the sleeve of his coat and showed Vlad the vivid red scar on his arm. "I made an oath to protect you. Until your father releases me from the oath I must fulfil my duty."

Vlad roared with rage at the sight of the scar on Dmitri's arm. "Damn my father!" Vlad paused for a moment and considered the half fang before him. "Go to my lodgings and wait for me there. I will speak to my father about your release."

Dmitri bowed. "Very well Your Highness." In flash he had disappeared from Vlad's sight.

Vlad took a moment to compose himself before he clicked his fingers again. He was enraged with his father but he didn't want Scarlett to pick up on how quickly his mood had shifted. He began counting to ten when he felt her warm hand on his arm. He turned to look at her in horror. Why wasn't she hypnotised with the rest of the breathers?

"What was that about? Your Highness? And what's going on?" Scarlett gestured at the frozen people around them.

Vlad clicked his fingers. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said as the people surrounding them came to life.

"Who was that man? How are you his ruler?" Scarlett's voice had a confrontational ring to it. She adopted an aggressive stance by placing her hands on her hips.

Some people were just more difficult to hypnotise than others. Most breathers were easy but clearly Scarlett had to be the exception to the rule. Hating himself for what he was going to do next, Vlad stepped forward. "Look into my eyes," he commanded his voice harsh with anger at himself for doing this to her and at this situation which gave him no real alternative.

Scarlett tilted her head and met his gaze. He could feel her heartbeat change rhythm becoming faster. Vlad gazed intently into her eyes, such a beautiful shade of dark blue in the dim lighting. He focused his power on extending his control over her will.

"Did your eyes just turn green?" enquired Scarlett suspiciously.

Vlad growled at the distraction. No breather should be able to notice a failed hypnosis. "Just look into my eyes Scarlett," he whispered urgently. "Trust me!" His hands cupped her face, the warmth of her skin burning through his coldness, electricity jolting through him at merely touching her. He focused all his strength on exerting control over her mind and gazed into her eyes. It wasn't working; Vlad ignored the warning signs and pushed harder at her mind. This wasn't just playing games; he needed to ensure for the safety of his people that she didn't know what he was. The lights in the library began to flicker off and on. The ground rumbled below their feet as if an earthquake was taking place. Books began to fall off the shelves. People were yelling in alarm in the background.

"Vlad?" The sound of his usual name from her lips was sensual. She moved closer to him, reaching up to touch his face. Vlad pushed his psyche even harder, crying out in pain as he desperately tried to hypnotise her. There was an explosion of noise and panic as all the lights in the library and the huge glass windows shattered simultaneously. The explosion jerked Vlad and Scarlett back into the present. Vlad's hands dropped from her face as he collapsed against a bookshelf. He felt completely drained of energy.

Scarlett surveyed the damage surrounding them, the glass all over the floor and tables, the books strewn across the floor and the general pandemonium in the library. "What was that?" she gasped in disorientation.

"Gas explosion?" suggested Vlad with a sheepish look on his face as he brushed glass off his shoulders. "I really have to go now. See you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder as he hurried off.

* * *

The light filling the swimming pool was bright and sterile. It poured in through the large glass windows, bounced off the harshly white walls and turquoise blue of the water. Much like the light, both the air and water of the swimming pool was cold. Scarlett focused on gliding through the water, lap after lap, arms and legs working together to cut cleanly through the chilled liquid. Pausing for breath, Scarlett leant against the wall. Images flashed through her head. The red dust, the blinding light, screams filled her head. Scarlett trailed her hand through the water, her fingers dividing it. Sometimes she wondered if reality was similar, if you could just tear it apart and it would continue to swirl around you.

She shivered as she remembered the words of the Bathius Blood papers. A landscape of red, the dust , the rivers of blood and the pain of the light. The papers had described her nightmare. A recurring nightmare that she had throughout her life as far back as her memories existed. She used to wake up screaming, her father would cradle her in his arms and whisper that everything was ok. Her mother would make her hot milk and cuddle her until she went back to sleep. Then there was no-one to comfort her when she woke up screaming. Eventually she learnt to control it, force herself to change the dream but sometimes she couldn't.

Sometimes she felt like she was on the cliff edge of sanity. Normal people didn't have dreams that came true. Snippets of life that came to her in her dreams years or months before they happened. Normal people didn't dream about an ancient vampire war that couldn't have possibly happened. Normal people didn't see the world freeze around them at the snap of a person's fingers. Fear had its cold slimy fingers around her heart, it made her sick with anxiety, it pushed her to put on the mask that was required because normal people couldn't find out about her. Now that Sister Mary was gone, Scarlett had no-one else in the world to protect her. She was alone.

Scarlett pushed her body back into the cold water. She didn't want to think about how close she was to the edge. If she kept ignoring it, everything would be ok. Don't slip up. The mantra ran through her head as she continued her laps of the pool. Don't. Slip. Up.

* * *

Ice met ice as Vlad engaged his father in an eyeballing contest. Count Dracula was completely unrepentant of his actions. Vlad was furious that his father had taken away Dmitri's free will, that his father had sent him protection and that he had proven by recent events that he needed the protection. Not that he would ever admit the last one. He still felt like cringing when he remembered stumbling over in the garden.

"I've already explained it several times." Count Dracula placed his hands on his hips. "The High Council is fretting over your absence. I'm not letting one of them spy on you."

"Don't pretend that this is all for my benefit. You can't relinquish control. The High Council may not be spying on me, but you certainly are. Dmitri is loyal to you not me," Vlad countered hotly.

The Count shrugged nonchalantly. "That's your fault not mine. If you created a few half-fangs of your own..." He gave Vlad a meaningful look.

"We are not talking about that," snapped Vlad. His father knew Vlad would never create half-fangs. Half-fangs started out as innocent human beings then they were converted against their will into vampires. Vlad didn't have a choice in becoming a vampire. He was born a vampire. He wouldn't take that choice away from anyone else.

"They would be utterly loyal to you. Completely unable to betray you as their maker." The Count tilted his head defiantly.

"How can you be such a hypocrite?" Vlad demanded. "You sneer at half-fangs, you claim they are not true vampires because they were converted not born. Yet you have created them yourself. Not only that but you send one of them to guard your son and heir. Who incidentally does not need any guarding!"

"You failed to report to me. How am I supposed to know whether you are undead? I worry Vladdy!" The Count dodged Vlad's accusations.

"Dad, most nineteen year olds leave home for university!" Vlad protested.

The Count fixed him with a fierce look. "Most nineteen year olds, "he said the words with contempt, "Are not the Chosen One. Most nineteen year olds do not have the responsibility of vampire kind on their shoulders. Most nineteen years do..."

"Not have the ability to generate fire and lightning. Do not have the ability to move with super speed or transform in a bat," Vlad said impatiently. "Dad I am meant to be most powerful vampire on earth and yet you still treat me like I'm a kid!"

"But you are a kid." The Count sounded huffy now. "You are only nineteen! That's not even two decades."

"Old enough to be crowned Grand High Vampire," Vlad pointed out.

"Young enough to get outwitted by your father." The Count smiled smugly.

Vlad scowled. "The oath was unnecessary." Now he was one who sounded huffy.

Count Dracula smirked. "No, it was completely required. I knew you would reject Dmitri but he can't fly away from you. He is bounded by blood oath to protect you until I release him."

"It's barbaric!" Vlad protested.

The Count sneered, "Perhaps you shouldn't have made it necessary."

Vlad glared at his father. "This conversation is over." He took out a scroll from his cloak. "Give this to Dhvani. It's sealed and I will know if you break it."

The Count took the scroll and surveyed the red wax seal contemplatively. "I do so enjoy a challenge," he drawled wickedly. "And the Halloween Ball?"

"Make the arrangements. Tomorrow I will deliver a scroll confirming my attendance. It should get the High Council off your back for a while. Not that you deserve a break." Vlad wrapped his cloak around him as he prepared to leave the dreamworld.

"You are my son and heir." The Count met his son's angry glaze with cold determination. "I would do anything to protect you. Anything."

* * *

Setting her hairbrush down on the dressing table, Charlie fluffed her hair and pouted playfully in the mirror. Unlike most girls of her age, Charlie was exceedingly confident in her own skin. She knew that the face reflecting her pout was pretty, her skin was the shade of milky coffee, smooth and unblemished, large green eyes and delicate cheekbones.

"Oi sexy, stop admiring yourself in the mirror and come here!" Her boyfriend Robin patted the bed and grinned at her good naturedly.

Charlie twirled around, her baggy 'I love London' T-shirt barely skimming her thighs. Again unlike most girls her age, Charlie was exceedingly confident about her body. "Oh have I got your attention now?" She smiled wickedly at Robin. She walked in an exaggeratedly sexy manner towards the bed.

Robin grabbed her in a bear hug and cuddled her close. "You always have my attention!" He kissed her on the forehead. "Honestly woman, can't you leave me in peace until the rugby match is over?"

"No. That would be too easy!" Charlie ran her fingers fondly through his longish black hair.

Robin kissed her softly on the mouth. "I let you watch Hollyoaks."

"Hollyoaks is dramatic art." Charlie snuggled contently into the crook of his arm as she settled down to watch the rugby with him. When the advertisements came on, she asked "Fancy formal hall at Winterville this weekend?"

"Yeah, that would be good. We haven't been since the start of term. Usual crowd?" Robin asked amicably.

"Yeah, although I'm trying to persuade Scarlett to ask this new lad at our college. You know the one who sent the roses. The really beautiful roses." Charlie jabbed him playfully. "Not that I'm jealous of anyone receiving such an amazing and thoughtful gift."

Robin chucked, "Yeah coz I'm not getting jealous vibes off you at all!" He rolled his eyes dramatically. Charlie stuck out her tongue in repose and Robin tried to catch it. She squealed in mock horror and hid below her pillow.

"So what's the name of this new kid who's making me look bad?" Robin snatched the pillow away.

Between her giggles, Charlie managed to say, "Vladimir Count." She stopped giggling as all the blood drained from Robin's face at the sound of his old schoolmate's name.

* * *

The thick red wax cracked easily under Dhvani's fingers. Opening the parchment scroll at his desk, Dhvani carefully read the contents. As ideas or thoughts struck him, he would scribble them down. He folded up the parchment carefully afterwards and sighed longingly at the thought of the dreaming spires. He remembered the place from his last visit in the 1920s. No doubt it had undergone many changes since then but still the walls would whisper their history and the ghosts would still roam the streets. He had not pushed himself forward to go to Oxford with the Chosen One as much as he would have liked to. He felt honoured to be trusted with the research as it was. A half fang who had been converted in nineteenth century India, Dhvani had devoted his living and undead existence to his books. All he required was ink and paper and he was content. Perhaps he would be called to Oxford at some point when the Chosen One needed him.

The flame of the candle wavered in a slight breeze on his desk. Looking up, Dhvani saw the monstrous shadow cast on the wall. A figure with a stake in its hand. Before Dhvani could even cry out, the stake pierced his heart and he shattered into shimmering dust.

His assassin fastidiously wiped the dust from the chair before seating himself at the desk. Patiently and calmly, Bertrand du Fortunesa worked his way through the variety of papers on Dhvani's desk. He traced the outline of Vladimir Dracula's signature on the parchment. Ah his old protégée! A simultaneous disappointment and triumph. He noted the freshly broken edges of the wax seal. A wicked grin spread across his wide mouth as he focused on one word. Oxford.

* * *

**Chapter 8 teaser**

_'After thousands of years, we could hold the key to humanity's freedom in our hands. Nothing must get in the way of your mission.'_


	9. Chapter 8

_**Thanks so much for the reviews! Best of luck to Charchisto who has exams coming up! Hope the revision is doing well. xo**_

**Chapter 8**

The blackness of the oil smeared over her fingers as she turned the key in the rusted lock. Frowning Professor Teverson wiped off the offending oil with her handkerchief as she moved towards her desk. She was locking the door and drawing the curtains even in the middle of the day now. Even if someone managed to break into her office they would still have to know the combination to her safe. She whirred the dial around and opened the heavy metal door. Taking out the USB key, she found herself looking over her shoulder in an empty room. She had been desperately trying to shake the morbid thoughts out of her head but it was proving difficult.

Sitting at her expansive desk, she slotted the USB key into her laptop. A few months ago, the prospect of assisting the Order had felt like an honour. Now her heart was heavy with regret. The research was consuming her life, taking her away from her family, from her students and away from her faith in the Church. It was too late to back out now. The vampires knew what she was doing. Continue her work or try to flee, either way she was now a target. She shuddered at the memory of Vladimir Dracula's face. How deceiving appearances could be. His act of a handsome young man with charming manners belied the fact that he was a ruthless and bloodthirsty vampire seeking world domination. She knew the legends were true now. If vampires achieved their goal and ruled the world once again then humanity's fate held only pain and death. She was part of the system in place to stop them. No matter what price she was paying now, she had to bear that thought in mind. The Order needed her to locate the source so they could use it to wipe out the vampires. Only then would humanity be safe.

Professor Teverson tapped the password into the laptop and began pulling up scanned versions of documents onto her screen. The source could have been anywhere in the world but the Order insisted that it was in Oxford. When she had asked them for the evidential basis of this assertion, they had refused to give her any more information. With a weary sigh, Professor Teverson rubbed her aching head. From her desk drawer, she took out a bottle of aspirin. Father James was meeting her tomorrow and he would want no he would demand a progress report. It was going to be another long day.

* * *

The lilac bars of UV light hummed slightly. The Guild's logo swirled on the computer screen in the background. The Guild's global headquarters in Germany was a towering skyscraper of glass and metal. It was a deliberate choice. To present the Guild as ready and able to adapt to the demands of the twenty-first century unlike the medieval predators they hunted down. The meeting room was a sterile white; UV bars surrounded every window and doorframe, the room curved around the outside of the skyscraper with the large full length windows allowing the brilliant sunshine to pour into the room.

Drinking coffee and eating biscuits, the slayers waited for the meeting to begin. Dave felt awkward and uncomfortable in his suit and tie. He spent very little time out of his combats these days. He tugged at his restrictive collar and knotted tie. Across the table, Jonathan Van Helsing was exactly the same thing. He smiled ruefully at Dave. Dave acknowledged him with a nod. The infamous Jonathan Van Helsing. The slayer who had gone to school with the Chosen One. Looking around the table, it was clear that only the very best of the Guild were present. The most daring, resourceful and famous slayers. Dave felt honoured just to be in this room.

Chadrick Loewe, the global leader of the Guild, entered the room flanked by security personnel. He came to stand at the head of the table. He waved his hand and the security personnel retreated from the room bolting the doors as they left. Chadrick looked around the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, later today I will be announcing the Guild's intention to enter into a peace treaty with the Chosen One." A flurry of excitement and disbelief met his announcement. Chadrick raised his hand and the chatter quietened down. "Every unit across the world will be given new orders. No more slaying. With the exceptions of self-defence and provocation. As Jonno once agreed with the Chosen One, no biting, no slaying. This is the Guild's official line." A shocked silence filled the meeting room at their leader's words. "We will begin negotiating a very complicated treaty with the vampires. Already, we are taking disciplinary action against the Guild members involved in the recent unsanctioned slayings."

The slayers in the meeting room began to look sideways at one another panic showing in their eyes. Many of them like Dave had been involved in those slayings which had been directly authorised by Chadrick Loewe himself.

Chadrick smiled wickedly enjoying their discomfort. He placed his hands on the glass table and leant forward. "That is the Guild's _official_ line." He gave them all a slow and deliberate wink.

* * *

The colours of the rainbow fell across Robin's pale face as he dozed in her lap. Charlie looked up at the beautiful glass sun-catcher that Scarlett had given her for her last birthday. Looking down again at her boyfriend, Charlie felt the claws of worry clutch at her stomach. Her darling Robin. She stroked his soft thick hair, he needed another haircut soon, he was always letting it get slightly too long. Last night he had been so keyed up with excitement about Vladimir Count that it had been difficult to stop him from bouncing off the walls let alone trying to stop him from running over to Scarlett's room straightaway. It scared her how his eyes just lit up at Vladimir's name. He had been practically crying when she had stood against the door refusing to let him go to Scarlett. He wouldn't listen to reason.

"_It's two am!"_

"_Scarlett won't mind."_

"_We don't know it's the same person."_

"_I know it is! It has to be him!"_

"_Scarlett ... well you know what its like. She's having one of her episodes."_

"_I don't care! I need to see her."_

"_Robin! You of all people should understand ..."_

"_Can't you understand? This is my life we are talking about. This is my best friend and he's back! Get out of the way!" _

"_No."_

He could have easily shoved her aside. He was much stronger than her but of course he didn't. Her Robin would never raise his hand to her. He had collapsed with heart rending sobs into her arms. Half crying, half mumbling stories about his best friend until he fell asleep with exhaustion. Even though she knew she had done the right thing, Charlie still felt guilty. She couldn't let him go over to Scarlett's room demanding answers in the middle of the night. After the explosion at the Bodleian Library a few days ago, Scarlett had slipped into what she called one of her black episodes. She would cut off all contact and just retreat into herself until she began to feel better. Ordinarily, Robin would understand this given that he had similar problems himself. But last night, Robin had not been himself. Charlie couldn't let him go running around in that highly emotional state. She had to calm him down. She felt like crying. Damn this bloody Vladimir Count. How dare he upset her Robin? And what if it wasn't the same Vladimir Count? Robin's heart would be broken for the second time.

Robin and Scarlett - strange how alike her best friend and boyfriend were. It was through Scarlett that Charlie met Robin. Dishevelled dark hair, long leather coat, clothes on the gothic side, Robin was not the sort of lad that anyone expected her to fall for. Charlie was fashionable with her sleek twenties style bob and her up to the date clothes. Robin was a loner and socially isolated. Charlie was bubbly, friendly and always going to some social event. But for Charlie it had been love at first sight. A lonely lad surrounded by darkness with a heart full of light. That was how she saw her Robin.

And they were much more alike than anyone knew. Robin the social misfit, derided throughout school as the Goth weirdo, the lad who didn't fit in. Charlie knew what it was like not to fit in and how painful it could be if others noticed. Robin knew her secrets and he kept them. Which was why Charlie knew demanding answers from him would never work. Robin kept other people's secrets and he kept them very well. All Charlie knew was that for a brief period in Robin's life he had not been alone. He had a best friend. Then one day that best friend disappeared and it had broken Robin's heart. The rest of his school years had been spent alone and bullied until eventually he had turned to a combination of studying, drugs and self harm to cope. Much like her first encounter with Scarlett, when Charlie met Robin she had seen someone who was on the edge, someone who was ready to jump and someone desperately in need. Robin was happier now, at university he had friends, he was accepted for his eccentricity and he had a girlfriend who adored him. But last night had scared her because she saw the old desperate sadness in his eyes and she was frightened of what he would do to himself if this Vladimir Count turned out to be a false lead.

* * *

The scent of jasmine was heavy in the hot air of the evening. Dark clouds billowed in the night sky obscuring the pinpricks of the stars. The heat suggested a storm was brewing ready to wash away the dust of previous hot days. A beautiful young woman stood on the balcony of the palace and gazed out at the gardens. She delicately sipped a champagne glass of blood. A devious smile played on her red lips. Ah the pleasures of travel, she mused. This was her final night in this country then she would move onto the pleasures of China. It was such a hard unlife, having to travel the world, wallow in the greatest luxuries that each country had to offer and be on the receiving end of so much adoration. She could almost feel sorry for her little brother holed up in that draughty castle in Transylvania, having to deal with the boring paperwork and politics of maintaining power. Almost but not quite, after all being the ruler of vampire kind must have its benefits.

"Countess Dracula." A servant approached her on the balcony. "Your presence is requested in the throne room. The guests are about to arrive."

Ingrid turned slowly, the chiffon layers of her black dress floating around her, her white skin gleaming against the darkness of the evening. Her smile widened as she heard the intake of breath from the servant unable to control his reaction to her beauty. She glided forward and placed her empty glass in the speechless servant's hand. "I'm still thirsty," she said huskily. The servant sprang into action and scurried off to get her another drink.

Ingrid took in a gulp of the hot air, the sensuous scent filling her lungs. A new glass of chilled blood was placed in her hand as she ascended the steps up onto the grand throne craved from marble. With a satisfied sigh, Ingrid reclined back in the throne savouring the coldness of the marble beneath her fingertips. A throne so magnificent that it made her father's version look primitive and puny in comparison. Yes, tomorrow she would be in a position to report back to Vlad that the Middle East was poised for the transition.

* * *

Chadrick closed the PowerPoint presentation with a click of the remote. "You are the finest slayers across the world. Each one of you has been carefully selected for Project Cure. Nobody outside this room must ever find out about your mission. Secrecy is crucial to catching the vampires off guard. We have managed to narrow the criteria for the city of knowledge down to eight potential candidates. Each of you has a number written on the back of your name card. When you leave this room, you will be directed into the room number matching your name card. You will only know the city that you have been allocated." Chadrick folded his arms and looked around the table. "Slayers, we are on the verge of a brand new world. A world free from blood sucking parasites. A world where people can live freely without fear of being killed or converted into the undead. After thousands of years, we could hold the key to humanity's freedom in our hands. Nothing must get in the way of your mission." Chadrick stood still, his blue eyes piercing through each individual slayer in turn. "Good luck." It was almost a whisper but in the grave silence of the meeting room it sounded like a defiant battle cry.

* * *

The thick red blood oozed onto the concrete floor pooling into a sticky puddle. With a grimace of distaste, Bertrand du Fortunesa sidestepped the mess. Some vampires had no idea about class. There was simply no need for such gratuitous waste of food or to create such a bloodbath of a scene. The sound of screams echoed in the distance. Again a completely unnecessary distraction, why would one want to endure the unpleasantness of a dying breather's screams? He supposed that some vampires got off on it. Not him. If he wanted mess and noise, he would dine in the battlefield.

With complete dispassion, he looked down at the breather sprawled on the ground. He was gasping for his last breath, the lungs and heart failing as the blood flowed out of his body. Frightened green eyes stared up at Bertrand pleading for help. Bertrand lifted a goblet off the table, checking that it was sufficiently polished before lifting the boy's wrist and squeezing the blood out into the goblet. Bertrand maintained eye contact all the way through with his victim from the final snap of the bones in the wrist to taking a large sip of the blood and savouring it. With a sharp brutal kick to the ribs, Bertrand moved onto the next room to meet the rest of the Blood Brotherhood.

**Chapter Nine teaser**

_'When kissing breathers, you did have to remember that they actually needed to pause for breath.'_


	10. Chapter 9

_**Thanks for the reviews guys. Please let me know if you like where the plot is heading. I've got the overall storyline mapped out so I can promise that any questions are going to be answered. I'm going to be updating on Saturdays and Tuesdays from this point onwards as those days suit my schedule better. Hope you enjoy this chapter. xo**_

**Chapter 9**

The books landed on the desk with a thud. Scarlett picked up the sticky note that Vladimir had posted on her desk. '_Please come back to the library. Vlad x'_ Biting her lip, Scarlett smoothed out a crinkle in the corner of the note. Her heart contracted painfully in her chest. After the strange events at the Bodleian Library, she had been avoiding Vladimir. Exploding lights, people frozen, eyes that changed colour. It was all crazy, she felt like she was losing it. Frowning at her memories, Scarlett sat down at her desk and firmly opened the first book on her reading list. Except she couldn't concentrate, her gaze kept slipping over to Vlad's note. After a few days of much needed sleep, she was beginning to doubt her memories. They were impossible after all. You can't freeze the world around you with a snap of your fingers. Scarlett shook her head as if to shake the doubts out of her mind. This was precisely why she was avoiding Vladimir. She felt fragile enough as it was without all these strange occurrences.

She returned to reading her textbook on Victorian medicine. After ten minutes she realized she was still staring at the first sentence. With a sigh, she sat back in her seat and picked up Vladimir's note. She missed him. She had only known him a couple of weeks. It was ridiculous. She traced the words on the bright yellow paper. '_Please come back to the library. Vlad x_' It was simple and straight to the point. Scarlett loosened her chignon and began to run her fingers through her hair as she thought about Vladimir. Maybe she was being overdramatic. Maybe he had a rational explanation for everything. Maybe he was even attracted to her. Maybe she should come to the library tonight just to see if he was ok. Decision made, Scarlett swept her hair back up into a bun and returned to her reading.

* * *

Dozens of candles had burnt low, pools of wax congealing around the candelabras but they still manage to fill the rooms with warm light. Papers scrawled across the carpeted floor of the room. Vladimir Dracula had fallen asleep slumped over the corner of his coffin, a book lay on the carpet where it must have fallen from his hands.

Dmitri barely cast a glance over the scattered papers. Scholarly work had never been of much interest to him. Whatever the Chosen One wished to do in his coffin was his own business. As long as Dmitri kept the Slayers Guild and the Blood Brotherhood at bay he considered his duty fulfilled. He grasped the Chosen One's shoulder and shook him firmly. "Your Highness, it is evening. Time for training."

Vlad groaned with displeasure as he was roused from his sleep.

"You are not sleeping properly." It could have sounded scolding but Dmitri's manner was matter of fact.

Vlad stretched his limbs. "I know." He rubbed his eyes wearily.

"If it continues, you should get a sleeping draught. One night of sleep should set you back on course." Dmitri began gathering the papers, carelessly shuffling them together and putting the pile on top of a nearby bookshelf. "I will be waiting in the lounge room for Your Highness." Dmitri marched out of the room.

Vlad sat in his coffin for another couple of minutes. He looked down at the papers in his coffin. The pages covered in Scarlett's elegant handwriting. Was there anything about her that wasn't beautiful? A bitter taste filled his mouth. She had been avoiding him for a couple of nights now. Every evening he went to the library as usual to work. Scarlett would have left him books and papers detailing her research. After reading the Bathius Blood papers, she was on fire when it came to the research. Vlad was impressed by how quickly she had located relevant myths detailing a source similar to the description in the Bathius Blood papers then how quickly she was following each line of enquiry that the particular myth presented. Her work put Dhvani to shame. Clearly, her intellectual prowess could not be underestimated. The situation could be deemed satisfactory. He had a breather as intelligent as Scarlett doing the majority of the work for him and he didn't even have to put up with pretending to be a normal student. Except he desperately wanted to pretend.

* * *

As the loud banging on her room door continued, Scarlett stormed across and flung the door open. "WHAT?" she snarled at an unsuspecting Robin. He looked slightly taken back by her aggression. "Sorry," Scarlett grimaced. "In the middle of getting ready."

Robin recovered quickly. "I need to speak to you about Vladimir Count." He was slightly out of breath as if he had been running.

"Oh." Scarlett stood back and gestured for Robin to come in.

"Sorry about the noise, I needed to get to you before Charlie intervened. I know this may not be the best time but I really need to talk to you." Robin was pacing the stretch of floor between her desk and sofa. "You know what it's like, sometimes you just need to get something sorted rather than having it hang over you."

Scarlett nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. Tea? Coffee?" She flicked the switch on kettle. "Sit down, I won't let Charlie know you are here."

"Fat chance of that happening. You know she will find out." Robin smiled fondly at the thought of his girlfriend. He took off his long leather coat and sat down. "Tea. My usual please." He still seemed agitated and restless though as he tapped his boot on the carpet and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

"Go on, shoot." Scarlett set her tea pot down on the coffee table and sat in the armchair opposite him.

Robin dug a couple of photos out of his pocket and shoved them at Scarlett. "Does that look like Vladimir Count?" he asked urgently.

Scarlett spread the photos out on the coffee table and looked at them carefully. There were four in total. In the first two boys dressed in blue sports kit grinned at the camera, one was covered in mud and the other had a bandage around his head which was falling off. The second photo had the same two boys and a small blonde girl. All three were eating ice-cream. The third photo was just of the two boys again, one in a light suit and tie smiling at the camera, the other dressed in black and glowering. The final photo was a school photo of one of the teenage boys on his own. Scarlett recognised the much younger teenage version of Vladimir Count immediately. "He's changed slightly but that's definitely him." Scarlett looked up at Robin.

A half sob escaped him and he slumped back onto the sofa. "Sorry," he sounded suspiciously choked up. "Are you sure?" He suddenly sat upright again.

Scarlett looked down at the photos. "Yes." She nodded assertively. "His hair is black now but that is definitely him. You guys were adorable!"

"Hmm!" Robin gave her a disapproving look.

Scarlett gathered up the photos and handed them back to Robin. "Is he 'The Friend'?" she asked softly. Robin very rarely talked about his old best friend. He had never even said his name until now.

Robin nodded. His eyes looked suspiciously bright. He cleared his throat. "What's he like?" he questioned her earnestly.

Now it was Scarlett who shifted uneasily in her seat. "Um... he's a bit of a player but intelligent. Lovely manners." Her smile was bright and artificial.

Robin's dark eyes were beseeching. "What's he really like Scarlett?" he asked his voice laden with a meaning she couldn't quite understand.

"A bit... different," she volunteered reluctantly.

Robin studied her for what seemed like a very long moment. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low, "Things aren't quite how they seem? Strange stuff happening when he's around? Things you can't explain?"

Scarlett was startled. "Yes," she whispered thinking of the strange man who wanted to stab Vladimir and of the incident in the Bodleian.

Robin nodded his head vigorously. "It's not you Scarlett. Whatever has happened you are not imagining it. You are not going crazy."

Scarlett half laughed, it was a bitter sound. "How did you know that's what I have been feeling?"

Robin shrugged but a look of pain passed briefly over his face. "Coz that's how I felt sometimes. If your Vlad is my Vlad, I mean if they are the same person, then the strangeness can be explained." Robin lifted his mug of tea halfway to his mouth and then stopped suddenly. "The Vlad I knew was a good guy. The sort of person who wouldn't cheat in rugby, always handed his homework in on time, he wouldn't hurt anyone but the black hair…he might have changed since then." Robin was hesitant as he spoke. "Scarlett, I'm not telling you what to do, hell I won't even pretend that I can tell you what to do but Vlad might not be safe to be around. He might not be the good guy that I remember. You should be careful."

Scarlett frowned at Robin's words. It was very unlike Robin to advocate caution or even tell someone else what to do. "What do you mean? Since when did hair colour matter so much to you?"

Robin stared into his mug of tea. "I can't tell you. It's not my secret to tell."

Scarlett sipped her tea slowly before answering. "Ok, I won't push you." She looked up at the clock. "Oh it's nearly eight o clock! Robin!" She beamed at him with excitement. "Vladimir, opps I guess I should say Vlad, is usually in the library by this time."

Robin had set down his tea, stood up and put on his leather coat before Scarlett could even blink. "Well let's go!" He grinned at her.

* * *

Vlad's mood was as black as the night sky outside the library window. It was nearly eight o clock and there was no indication that Scarlett was coming. He scowled at the papers in front of him. What was the point? After all Scarlett was perfectly able to do the research on her own, it wasn't as if he was needed. He had even left her a note. His lip curled in disgust at how soppy he had been. Please come back. Well that was a mistake. You think he would learn from his past mistakes. Soppy, sweet and kind did not get you the girl. He was through with this. He grabbed his leather jacket and stalked out of the library. Scarlett wasn't the only girl in Oxford and right now his severely bruised ego needed some TLC. Like an obedient shadow, Dmitri followed him without any questions.

* * *

Scarlett gave Robin a bear hug. "I'm sorry Robin!" she whispered into his ear. "We must have missed him." When they had gotten to the library, the papers and books were disturbed but there was no other sign to indicate that Vlad was around. Scarlett stepped back. "Give Charlie a ring. You could do with some distraction."

Robin nodded. He seemed to have diminished in size, almost like he had deflated after being so excited at the prospect of being reunited with his friend. "At least I know it's him," he conceded but he still looked miserable.

"There's always tomorrow," said Scarlett gently, feeling terrible for raising his hopes.

Robin sniggered. "You sound like your namesake," he said wryly. "Tomorrow is another day!" This was said in a mockingly bright tone.

Scarlett swatted his arm. "Watch it Branagh! Seriously though I'm going to text Charlie so you better get in there first."

"Yeah yeah, nag, nag." Robin rolled his eyes but he was smiling. "Do us a favour though. Don't tell Vlad about me yet. I don't want him to pull another disappearing stunt."

"Why would he...Oh forget it! There's no point asking is there?" Scarlett shook her head with a slight smile. That's how their friendship worked. Robin and Scarlett never pushed each other for further information. They understood each other. "Now go to Charlie!" Scarlett gave him a little push in the direction of her friend's room.

Robin began walking backwards. "Do you ever quit your nagging?" he asked cheekily before turning around and hurrying off.

Scarlett stood in the quad and gazed after his retreating figure. Strange as their conversation had been, she felt somewhat reassured by it. She wasn't going crazy and both Vlad and Robin were hiding something. She began walking back to her room. Where had Vlad been tonight? Why ask her to come back to the library when he wasn't going to bother turning up himself? Scarlett stopped suddenly. Perhaps he had gone to the college bar. She turned around to call after Robin and then with difficulty stopped herself. It would be cruel to raise Robin's hopes again. If Vlad was in the bar, she could always text Robin. Her heart skipped a few beats at the prospect of seeing Vlad again. Trying not to get her hopes up too high Scarlett began walking towards the college bar instead.

* * *

When Vlad had walked into the college bar, he had been greeted with a chorus of catcalls and cheers from his previous drinking companions. He had greeted the chorus with a wicked laugh and an order to the bartender to prepare some shots. Barely half a hour later the bar counter was littered with shot glasses and Vlad was already feeling the tingle of numbness that only alcohol could bestow. Some of his companions were now feeling quite nauseous from the quick succession of shots. Lounging against the bar, Vlad took a drag of a cigarette and blew perfect circles of smoke into the air to applause from his companions.

"Smoking is not permitted," the bartender tapped Vlad on the shoulder. Vlad turned around slowly and gave the bartender a sinister look. The man behind the bar fell silent and began arranging another round of shots. Vlad smiled arrogantly and beckoned to a couple of attractive girls sitting in a booth. The girls instantly joined the boys. Vlad wrapped his arm around the waist of one of the girls. "Drinks ladies?" he smiled dazzlingly at them all.

Adam shook his head in disbelief. "How do you do it?" he demanded incredulously. He eagerly grabbed one of the shots that the bartender was laying out on the counter.

Tom, one of the college rugby players, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Vlad, what's your secret?" Tom stumbled back against the bar counter and raised his shot glass to one of the girls who had recently joined them.

Vlad chuckled. "Do what?" He turned his attention back to the girl by his side. Tilting her chin up, he bent his head to kiss her deeply. After a few seconds, he surfaced. When kissing breathers, you did have to remember that they actually needed to pause for breath. Also he wasn't drunk enough to numb his senses. He could sense every pulse of delicious blood going through her veins. It was too much of a temptation but if he got drunk enough like last time then that particular temptation would dissipate and another would take its place. A carnal temptation which wasn't difficult to give into. "Later," he whispered seductively into the girl's ear as he nudged her back towards her friends.

"Vlad!" Tom chortled good-naturedly. "Come on, tell us the truth. Donna? Sarah? Helen?" Tom poked him in the ribs with his elbow.

Vlad looked around at his rapt audience. He took another leisurely drag of his cigarette and smirked. "A gentleman keeps his secrets." His response was met with a roar of laughter.

"Yeah? Well a gentleman doesn't walk out straightaway afterwards!" The voice was pseudo posh and brash at the same time. Donna rose from a booth on the other side of the bar and walked across the floor to stand in front of Vlad.

Vlad looked her up and down slowly and deliberately. His mouth widened as his smirk became more malicious. "I don't know why you are complaining. After all I did thank you." He gained another roar of laughter and some applause for that retort.

Donna flushed angrily. "Yeah, well you were crap anyway!" She snapped.

Vlad's laugh was vicious. "Sorry, which one were you again? Doreen? Dana?" he asked with exaggerated politeness. His eyes were merciless as they seared into Donna. His head snapped towards the direction of the entrance as Scarlett's familiar scent wafted over to him, Vlad turned to look at her in horror. Surrounded by rugby boys, shot in one hand cigarette in the other, insulting a previous conquest, this was not how he wanted her to see him. His cruel mask slipped slightly as she moved towards him.

"Wow! You really are quite the prince charming." Scarlett's voice was cool and measured She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

Almost automatically Vlad sniggered at her choice of words. Prince charming? More like prince of darkness. That was the title his father favoured. At her fierce glare, he stopped laughing. He decided that attack was the best form of defence. "Where have you been?" he demanded. Even he was surprised at how angry he sounded.

Scarlett was considerably taken back by his question and the fury in his voice. "My sincerest apologies," she said with exaggerated politeness and pointed insincerity. "I wasn't aware that I needed to inform you of my every action."

If any of his kind saw him now, being openly defied by nothing more than a breather girl, well the thought was so laughable, he couldn't help a grin spreading across his face. For a moment, he didn't speak and just savoured the sight of her. The vivid red of her mouth. The golden sheen of her hair. Her soft accent. Seeing her was like being hit by lightning, he was completely frazzled. Her glare softened and she began to return his smile as they just gazed at each other without words.

"Vlad," the attractive dark haired girl from before slipped her arm around his waist. "Is it later now?" she purred, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. She trailed a possessive hand down Vlad's chest embarrassingly close to the buckle on his jeans. "Oh! Hi Scarlett!"

"Tams?" Scarlett shook her head in disbelief. Throwing them both a look of absolute disgust, she turned on her heel and walked out without another word.

**Chapter 10 teaser**

_'Maybe, we already know enough about each other.'_


	11. Chapter 10

_**Thanks for the reviews guys! Charchisto if you review every chapter you will have my eternal love and gratitude. Hope those exams went well! I promise that I've got some positively EVIL Vlad coming up soon. Intense one on one with Vlad and Scarlett today. Hope you guys like it! **_

**Chapter 10**

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap...

"Scarlett, I can keep this up all night," Vlad said determinedly. He nodded at Dmitri to continue his persistent knocking on the door. "I'll stay here until dawn if I have to." He heard her footsteps approach the door, as he stepped back he pulled Dmitri with him just before Scarlett flung her door open almost hitting them.

Scarlett stood in the doorway and glared at him. Her blue eyes were suspiciously red and puffy. Vlad neatly sidestepped around her and into her room, moving just a little too fast for a human. "I bring brownies. A gesture of peace." He attempted to hand her a beautifully wrapped gift box.

"I didn't say you could come in." Scarlett refused to take the box and folded her arms across her chest. She refused to look at Vlad, keeping her gaze on the carpet instead.

"You invited me in before." Vlad toyed with the ribbon on the box. He felt awkward. He didn't know what to say or do to make it better. He just wanted it to be better. He couldn't bear the thought of even more nights without her company.

A tear escaped and ran down her face. Scarlett moved to roughly brush it away but Vlad caught her hand in his and gently wiped away the tear with his thumb. Her skin was the softest velvet underneath his fingertips. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Scarlett pulled away. "This is ridiculous!" she snapped as she walked across the room to the window. "Why should I care what you do anyway? So what if you are working your way through the female population of the college? Including my friends!"

Vlad closed the door but stood against it. "I didn't know any of them were your friends." He winced at his words. "I didn't mean for it to sound like that. None of those girls mean anything to me."

Scarlett curled up into a ball on her window seat and gazed out of the window. "It's none of my business. I mean why should I care that you ask me to come to the library and then you go to college bar instead to get off with even more females?"

Vlad swallowed hard. If he was a breather then his heart would be pounding right now. It seemed like she was upset and jealous. And maybe, just maybe that was because she liked him. As more than a friend. "I wrote that note because I missed you," he began hesitantly," Then you didn't turn up so I went drinking."

Scarlett turned her head to look at him sharply. It was on the tip of her tongue to come out with a sharp retort but the look of sudden vulnerability on his face halted any harsh words. She patted the window seat to gesture that Vlad should join her.

Feeling unsure as to whether she was still mad at him or not, Vlad sat opposite her. Once again he found himself drinking in the sight of her. She had changed to go to bed, her golden hair was in a smooth plait and for once she was without her make up. She looked so much younger. He took in what she was wearing and he began to chuckle slightly.

"What?" Scarlett demanded but she was already half smiling at his laugh.

"Your pyjamas. They have cupcakes on them," Vlad grinned.

Scarlett looked down at her pyjamas. Blue with cupcakes on the bottoms and sweet dreams emblazoned on her top. Just ordinary Primark pyjamas. "I don't get it." She gave him a bemused smile.

Vlad laughed again. "I always imagined that you would wear red satin and lace. Something slinky..." Horror flitted across his face. "Not that I ever imagine you in...Oh bats!" He hit his head with the palm of his hand. "Did I actually just say that out loud?" He groaned with embarrassment. If the rugby boys could see him now it would totally shatter the image of him as some sort of super smooth player. "Can I just remind you that I've been drinking?"

Scarlett burst into giggles at his discomfort. Leaning forwards, she said in a confidential whisper, "Today's Tuesday, I save the red satin and lace for Saturdays only." The sensuous effect of her whisper in his ear was ruined by her fit of giggles at the end. When she managed to stop giggling, she stood up and moved towards the kettle. "Tea? Coffee?"

Vlad's mouth curled slightly into a small smile. "You know you may have some addiction issues when it comes to caffeine drinks," he teased her fondly. "Tea, thanks." He stayed on the window seat and watched her deftly prepare the hot drinks.

Scarlett shrugged slightly. "I think it's an Irish thing. Father Ted was uncannily accurate in some aspects of Irish life." She carried the mugs over to the window seat.

"Father Ted?" Vlad raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Sorry, I forgot you may not be familiar with Irish T.V. It was a comedy show about three priests on an island." Scarlett settled herself down on the window seat as well.

"Duh uh." Vlad looked dubious. It sounded like the start of a really bad joke. "So was it in Ireland that you learnt Aramaic?" He had tried to sound nonchalant but Scarlett looked slightly taken back by his abrupt turn of questioning.

"Yes." Her answer was abrupt. She picked up the beautifully wrapped box of brownies. "Anyway, I believe that a hot drink is positively required when it comes to eating brownies. This looks beautiful." She smiled at him but her smile was lacking its usual radiance.

"It's just you said that your father taught you," Vlad tried to gently press further in his line of enquiries. If she was any other breather, he would have been able to hypnotise her.

Scarlett's smile faltered. "Yes, I told you that."

Vlad sipped his tea. "How did your father know about Aramaic? It's a language so ancient that my people have almost forgotten it." The statement sounded much more accusatory than he intended.

Scarlett moved away from him back to the far part of the window seat and curled back into a ball. "I don't want to talk about it." Her voice held a warning tone.

Vlad decided it was time to backtrack. Scarlett's usual warm demeanour had rapidly changed to cold and hostile within three questions. Despite his curiosity over her language abilities, he didn't want to risk upsetting her again. "I just thought it was interesting." He nudged the box of chocolate brownies towards her. "Why don't you open the box? They are better when they are freshly baked."

"You know what else is interesting? You have just been getting off with one of my friends, and now you turn up at my door, late at night thinking you have earned the right to quiz me about my life because you brought me some brownies!" Scarlett pushed the box back in his direction.

"In fairness, they are brownies from that café you like?" Vlad attempted to give her a cheeky wink as he moved the box towards her again.

"I also found it really interesting how you were able to freeze all those people in the Bodleian with a click of your fingers." Scarlett snapped her fingers to illustrate her point.

Vlad looked away from her and stared deeply into his tea. "I don't know what you mean," he said with too much bravado. "Who is your father? How can he know Aramaic?"

"Why do you have a bodyguard Your Highness?" Scarlett deflected his question angrily.

"I don't want to talk about me," Vlad snapped as he instinctively shifted away from her to his end of the window seat.

"Well I don't want to talk about me either," Scarlett snapped back.

Dark sapphire met dark sapphire as they glowered fiercely at one another from opposite ends of the window seat. Scarlett had curled up defensively into a ball and was hugging a cushion. Vlad's entire body was tense and alert waiting for a signal to take flight or fight. He was struggling not to display any vampiric powers. Their determination not to talk about themselves was equally matched by their determination to get answers from one other. The ridiculousness of it suddenly struck Vlad and he began to laugh. Scarlett looked at him suspiciously.

"You have to admit it's funny," he said with a rueful shrug of his shoulders. "This whole getting to know you thing isn't going to work if we both refuse to say anything."

Scarlett gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. "Maybe, we already know enough about each other." She maintained her defensive position at her end of the window seat.

"No, we don't," Vlad disagreed in a firm voice. "I certainly don't know enough about you. There is so much more I want to know. I still don't know who introduced you to old Hollywood films. Or why red is your favourite colour. Or if there is a Mr Scarlett?" Vlad gave her a hopeful smile. He knew it had some effect on her because he sensed the change in the rhythm of her heartbeat. If he was a breather then right now his face would be flushed with embarrassment as he waited for her to respond to his tentative flirtation.

Scarlett shook her head and chuckled disbelievingly. "Vladimir, are you asking me whether I have a boyfriend?"

Vlad cleared his throat. Not trusting himself to speak, he merely nodded.

"And why would that interest you?" She gave him a bewildered smile.

Vlad stared at his tea for a minute trying to find the right words. Most powerful vampire in existence. Grand High Vampire and leader of his people. Son and heir to the infamous Count Dracula. He could have any girl in that college bar and here he was struggling to ask out the only one he actually liked. He looked up from the cold black liquid in his mug and gazed at Scarlett. The mellow light from her lamps made her hair gleam like liquid gold and turned her eyes into sapphire blue. He sighed in defeat. If a vampire had feelings for a breather, it was impossible for them to hypnotise that person. He should have noticed that he was getting too close to Scarlett. "Because I like you," he admitted in a soft voice.

"Oh." Scarlett sounded surprised. "Really?" Her hand shot up to cover her mouth as if that particular question had slipped out unintentionally. "I mean you have quite the reputation now. I don't think I'm your type."

Vlad sighed heavily. "I guess you have heard about …?" He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Scarlett nodded in response. Vlad groaned with frustration and stood up to look out of the window. The sky was black and empty tonight. It crossed his mind that his heart was meant to be the same. "That's not really me. Or at least it's not who I want to be." He looked down at Scarlett, his eyes pleading with her.

"You know I'm not one of those girls with saviour syndrome." Scarlett looked up at him with a cynical smile. "I don't want to rescue the bad boy from his wicked ways. I don't think that I'm the one who will change you and that you will stop being a player for me."

Vlad sniggered. "Player? Hardly. When I was at school I was just the little freak from Transylvania who had the hottest girl in school for his sister. Even when I moved schools, I was still the quiet, weird kid but I changed." He thought back to the time that he had entered the family's blood mirror and merged with his evil reflection. _'You're special Vlad. You don't have one evil reflection. You have a thousand. Together we will be the most powerful vampire ever.' _The words of his first evil reflection still echoed in his mind. "From that point onwards, I found that girls, women even, seem to know that there is this darkness to me and for some bizarre reason they like it." His lip curled in disgust.

Scarlett rose to stand beside him. She touched his arm gently and he turned to look at her. "I like the Vlad I've gotten to know," she said simply. Shyly, she trailed her hand down his arm and touched his hand. Vlad took her warm hand in his and held it tightly.

Where have you been for the past few days?" he asked her forlornly.

Scarlett squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Avoiding you, I was freaked out by what happened in the Bodleian. I needed some time to myself," she answered honestly. She moved closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

Vlad breathed in the tantalising scent of her hair. He stood still relishing the warmth of her body against him. "I can't tell you the entire truth about who I am," he said quietly. He waited for her to move away from him in protest.

"I don't expect you to. Everyone has their secrets." Scarlett sat down again on the window seat and tugged at his hand in a gesture to indicate that he should follow her.

Obediently Vlad sat down. He weighed up his options in his mind. He might have a chance with Scarlett, he didn't want to mess that up, he didn't want to lie to her but on the other hand he didn't want to lose her either. He thought back to the only other relationship that he had attempted. Erin Noble. Another breather, it seemed he had inherited the family weakness for romance with mortals. Erin had known almost everything about him including that he was the Chosen One. He still firmly believed that it had driven them apart. Physically it made the relationship incredibly difficult. When he had attempted to get closer to Erin, he knew deep down she was anxious that he would snap, lose control and give into the urge to drink her blood. She would push him away and he could see the suspicion in her eyes. He hated himself for putting that suspicion here and no matter how much Erin tried to reassure him that she trusted him, she couldn't help the way she flinched from his fangs. The self-hatred had eaten him from the inside out, destroying his confidence and eventually destroying his love for Erin. He sympathised with Erin, he knew it couldn't be easy to know that your boyfriend would remain young forever as you aged and died. Casual references to his immortality had inadvertently hurt Erin's feelings. A reminder that she could only ever be a temporary fixture in his immortal unlife. '_But you could turn me Vlad. Turn me and all our problems will be over_.' He remembered her drunken request that night. The words he never thought she would say to him. Words which indicated that she never really understood him. Words of desperation that she couldn't take back. He would never bite a breather, he would never create a half-fang and he definitely wouldn't do it to someone he cared about. _'T__he only reason she wants you is because you're the Chosen One.'_ The power of words was extraordinary. That night their relationship died and crumbled into ash. He would not make the same mistake twice. If he told Scarlett that he was a vampire, the Chosen One a myth that she had been reading about, then he would lose her. She would think he was insane, delusional from all the studying or she would run away from him in terror or worst of all she may even try to slay him.

"You ok?" Scarlett asked him softly dragging him back from his morbid thoughts.

Vlad looked down at their joined hands. "Isn't my hand too cold for you?" he asked suddenly. The only reason why the other breathers hadn't noticed his unnatural coldness was because they had been intoxicated.

Scarlett gave him a puzzled look. "Er…no."

Vlad put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She willingly snuggled into his side and placed her head on his shoulder again. Vlad felt her warmth flow through him, the happiness even more intoxicating than the alcohol he had been drinking earlier. He hesitated before speaking again. He didn't want to lose this moment but he felt he had to give Scarlett some form of explanation. A mind as intellectually curious as hers would keep digging for the truth. Some form of explanation would hopefully divert her attention away from dangerous lines of enquiry regarding his identity. "I can't tell you the entire truth because it would place both of us in danger," he said truthfully.

"OK, that sounds pretty serious." He couldn't see her face but her voice was full of concern. "Is that why you have a bodyguard?"

Vlad scoffed almost instinctively at the word bodyguard. "Yeah, it's a big bone of contention between my father and I. He sent me a bodyguard without even notifying me first. He still treats me like a kid!" Vlad complained. He was easily distracted by the memory of the argument with his father.

"So you're … what royalty?" Scarlett asked a note of scepticism in her voice.

Vlad sighed heavily. He tried to choose his next words carefully so that technically he wasn't lying to her. "Sort of. My family is an old aristocratic bloodline. My father is a Count. I took the title as my surname because the family name is quite well known in some circles and I like to be anonymous."

"But Dmitri said Your Highness?" Scarlett had picked up immediately on the royal title.

"Yeah." Vlad paused for a moment. "OK, no matter how I say this, I'm still going to sound pompous but here it goes. I am the ruler of my people. We don't use the title King but I guess it would be an appropriate description of what I am. I didn't inherit the job. It's complicated to explain. Ancient customs and all that but basically I was chosen to be the ruler of my people. It wasn't a decision that I made." Vlad cupped Scarlett's chin and tilted her head slightly so that he could gaze into her eyes. "Being in Oxford means I get to live as normal a life as possible. That's all I ever really wanted, to be ordinary."

Scarlett looked hauntingly sad as she met his eyes. "I can understand that." She reached up and covered his hand with hers.

Looking at her beautiful face half in the light, half in the dark, Vlad was incredibly tempted to just bend his head and kiss her. But he was worried that it was too soon. He didn't want to push his luck. An hour ago she had been yelling at him because he had been hitting on one of her friends. Making a serious move on her might only confirm he actually was a player who tried it on with whatever girl was available. "It's getting late, I should go," he murmured but he found it difficult to move away.

Scarlett glanced at the clock. "It's only midnight. The night is still young and those brownies still require eating." This time it was her smile that was hopeful.

Vlad retrieved the wrapped box from where it had fallen on the floor and placed it in her hands. "Mmm well I can't resist chocolate."

Scarlett's laugh was soft and seductive. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

**Chapter 11 teaser**

_'Strange how a near death incident could alter your opinion of someone.'_


	12. Chapter 11

**_Thanks for the lovely reviews. They really make my day. HyaHya, you will also gain my eternal love and gratitude if you review every chapter. Reviews=yayness! I tend to plan a couple of chapters in advance and I can definitely promise we will be seeing a much darker side to Vlad. This chapter contains just a taste of what our favourite Grand High Vampire is capable of... Hope you enjoy it! xo _**

**Chapter 11 **

The brash yellow of the floodlights surrounded the intricate metal structure illuminating one of France's most famous landmarks. Ah the Eiffel Tower, a marvel of engineering. He still remembered the inauguration ceremony from the nineteenth century. The wine had been rather poor in his opinion but the delicious blood of that unfortunate reporter more than made up for that. Paris had been his birth place. After four centuries of travel, he still found the lure of this city irresistible. No other location had managed to displace Paris in the black space designated as his unbeating heart. This city was the most beautiful in the world. Although he would exchange the current lighting of the Eiffel Tower for something less brash. A petty criticism perhaps but then he always was a perfectionist.  
It pleased him to stroll along the banks of the Seine, to watch the lights flicker across the dark shiny waters and to brush past the unwitting breathers who believed that this world was theirs. The petty arrogance of breathers had always irritated him. Their lives were so fleeting and yet they thought they were of importance. But now, ah now the world was falling. And it was falling to Vladimir Dracula's feet.  
A half smile, half snarl twisted Bertrand's mouth at the thought of his former student. Where once the book had consumed him, it was now his former student who occupied his mind and emotions. After four centuries of preparing for the Chosen One, how could he not be preoccupied with the Dracula boy? Such power and darkness in one person. The thought made Bertrand shiver with delight. Once the Dracula boy had turned to him, had trusted him above others, valued his knowledge and advice beyond that even of his father. These were the memories he savoured during his exile.  
In one sense it was rather appropriate that he should pause in Paris to collect his thoughts as he journeyed back to that miserable and drab country known as England. It was not only his birthplace but also very nearly the place of his final death at Vlad's hands. Bertrand never admitted to mistakes; he simply didn't make any but perhaps if pushed hard enough he could acknowledge he made one nearly fatal error of judgment when it came to Vlad. He had underestimated the much younger vampire. He had viewed Vlad as weak because the young vampire fought against his evil side. However Vlad had proven to be far more intelligent, devious and manipulative than Bertrand had given him credit for. Strange how a near death incident could alter your opinion of someone. The blazing red of his eyes. The wrath on his pale handsome face. His steady and deliberate footsteps in the dark of the night as he coolly walked away leaving Bertrand to an agonising death. It was only the intervention of a member of the Blood Brotherhood which had saved Bertrand's unlife. The membership and the ideology of the Blood Brotherhood continued to undergo both rapid and radical changes but one element remained consistent – the goal of assassinating Vladimir Dracula.  
I'm doing you a favour, he silently told his unconscious victim, soon this world will descend into blood and chaos. At least this way your death was quick and relatively painless. With ease he picked up the dead body and tossed it into the Seine. He watched as the body slowly drifted down the river. Calmly he retrieved a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket and carefully dabbed any evidence of the blood from his mouth.

* * *

"I don't think I am ever going to drink tea again. From now on it's strictly hot chocolate!" Vlad gulped down the last mouthful of his drink with relish. He set his mug down on her bedside table.  
Scarlett giggled slightly as she glanced up at him. He had a chocolate moustache. "A fellow chocolate addict, this doesn't mode well for either of us." She reached up to wipe the chocolate off his mouth. As her fingers touched his mouth, she met Vlad's brilliantly blue eyes; the air suddenly seemed charged with tension. What had been an innocuous action suddenly seemed like a bold signal to kiss her. Vlad moved his lips lightly against her fingertips. The slight coolness of his mouth against her skin felt electrifying. Torn between panic and desire, Scarlett felt breathless. "You have a chocolate moustache," she blurted out, cursing herself even as she said the words.  
Vlad grimaced good-naturedly as he wiped his mouth. He slid back onto the bed beside her to continue watching Casablanca. It was one of Scarlett's favourite films. After a moment's hesitation Vlad put his arm around her shoulder and Scarlett snuggled into his side. Inwardly she was still cursing herself. For one moment it had looked like Vlad was on the verge of kissing her and she had just acted like an idiot. Tamara was probably right about her and Vlad. She wasn't suitable for someone as hot as him. She would only end up disappointing him. Lost in dark thoughts for a few moments, Scarlett felt the old and familiar despair wash over her. As if anyone could ever care about her.  
"Scarlett?" Vlad's voice was soft and questioning in her ear.  
She looked up at him. He was frowning in concern. He was so utterly gorgeous he took her breath away. She forced herself to smile brightly at him. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something else." As Vlad smiled back, she couldn't help thinking that his mouth was insanely sexy. Shifting slightly in his arms, Scarlett reached up again and traced his mouth with her fingertips. Maybe she would get it right this time. After all how badly could a kiss go?  
Vlad caught her wrist gently, his fingers brushed over the fading redness of the scars on her arm. Normally Scarlett would have pulled her arm back abruptly. Covered up her scars. Make a joke about how clumsy she was.  
Vlad's reaction seemed different from other people. He touched her scars without revulsion. His fingers were extraordinarily gentle and when his eyes met hers they were full of sorrow. "Have you ever talked to anyone?" His voice was calm and quiet.  
Scarlett shrugged dismissively. "I don't need to," she said firmly. She pulled her arm away from his grasp. He let go of her immediately. His reaction was completely different from most people. Scarlett was so used to hostility, accusations and disgust that she wasn't sure how to respond to his calm compassion.  
Vlad leant back against the headboard. "Ingrid, my sister, went to counselling once. It really helped her," he remarked casually.  
Scarlett drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I was a care kid. I've had quite enough of people interfering in my life." The words came out slightly harsher than she intended.  
"Care kid?" Vlad repeated. He sounded confused. He spoke English so well that she sometimes forgot that he came from another country and that he may not understand colloquialisms.  
"Um it means a kid who was in the care system. Social services. Foster care. Children's home. That sort of thing," Scarlett explained. She looked up at him searching his face for any sign of distaste or judgment.  
"Oh," Vlad said softly. "But you said about your father..." Scarlett bit her lip and summoned up the strength to explain her dysfunctional background in the form of a few lines which were as bland as possible. "I was orphaned at the age of ten. I was taken into care for a couple of years until I was fostered by a nun Sister Mary." She knew her voice was unnaturally emotionless as she spoke.  
Vlad's expression was sympathetic. "And you said that explanation so many times that it almost doesn't bother you."  
Scarlett looked at him in astonishment. "Sounds like you might actually understand."  
Vlad's laugh was bitter. "Mum and Dad split up when I was little. My sister decided she wanted her independence. This is my half brother; he's staying with us for a while." Vlad's eyes were shadowed with sadness. "Yes, I understand." He opened up his arms inviting her back into his embrace.  
Scarlett moved back into his arms and hugged him tightly. Vlad wrapped his arms reassuringly around her. Scarlett breathed in the delicious scent of his aftershave. Curled up in Vlad's arms, watching her favourite film and full of delicious chocolate brownies she felt safe and cared for. The earlier mist of despair just seemed to melt away at Vlad's touch. In the darker depths of her mind, she knew that these feelings of happiness were dangerous. She shouldn't allow herself to get close to another person. Hadn't she been hurt enough times already to know that this was a mistake? Vlad pressed a gentle fleeting kiss against her hair. Scarlett suppressed her worrisome thoughts and snuggled closer against him.

* * *

Eva leant against the doorframe and watched Dave pack. His quick deft movements folding the clothes into tidy rectangles were another reminder of his military past. "What am I supposed to do without you?" she demanded.  
Dave didn't waste time even glancing at her. "Nothing. That's the point. You are being decommissioned until such time as the peace treaty is ratified." Dave zipped up the backpack.  
Eva rolled her eyes. "Now you are just quoting from the missive to avoid my questions." Taking a deep breath she unfolded her arms. "Look it's not just about slaying," she said in a much quieter voice. "I don't have any family left. The vampires took care of that. In the past year you have been the only constant in my life. Ugh!" Eva turned away to roughly wipe her tears away with her sleeve. She didn't want her mentor to see her cry; he had taught her that tears were a sign of weakness.  
Dave patted her gently on the back. "Now, now missus, no need for waterworks." He put his arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug. "You can return to Britain now. Maybe go to college. You can lead a normal life. The Guild will sort you out we look after our own. You have served with distinction; the Guild won't let you down."  
Eva managed a watery smile. "A normal life? I've nearly forgotten what that is."  
Dave hesitated for a moment. "Look, I'll be in touch, it might be a while before I can contact you but I'll find you and I'll make sure you have been provided for." He released her from his hug and picked up his coat from the bed.  
"Why can't you come with me now? We could be resettled together." Even to her own ears, it sounded pathetic and whiny. "Forget it! I'm just being silly." Eva folded her arms tightly across her chest and swallowed hard to prevent anymore tears.  
Dave hesitated for a long moment, his eyes looked suspiciously bright. "I'm sorry kid; I've got a different decommissioning schedule on account of me being a long term member."  
"Are you sure about that?" Eva's voice was thick from the effort of holding back tears. "They have been rounding up members to punish, just to satisfy those bloodsuckers."  
Dave shook his head. "Don't worry about me," he reassured her.  
Eva took another deep breath. "Lieutenant, will I be one of them?" she asked fear making her voice hoarse. "I was there at Arad..."  
Dave grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. He checked the corridor outside the room and then shut the door firmly behind him. "Listen to me," he said urgently in a low whisper, "You served with distinction. I'm sure in time the Guild will reward you properly with a medal of honour for what you did at Arad. Right now, it's complicated. The Guild will not be handing over their best slayers to vampires. They will be decoys. You have nothing to fear." He walked over to his bed and hoisted the backpack onto his shoulder. "Take the resettlement, I will find you." His voice back to its usual volume, Dave flung open the door and stalked off before Eva could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

* * *

"It's nearly dawn I should go and let you get some sleep," Vlad whispered into Scarlett's ear. The only response he received from Scarlett was a noncommittal "Mmm." She was half asleep in his arms, her head resting on his chest, her body curled up against his. Vlad's sexual experience with members of the opposite sex had not extended to cuddling. Strangely vampires didn't really do the 'cuddling thing'. The sensation of Scarlett's warmth and softness against him was amazing. It was strange that just cuddling made him feel closer to her than any of the other women he actually had sex with. Vlad was incredibly reluctant to leave, he waited to stay just where he was, happy and relaxed in Scarlett's arms but he knew that he had to attend an important meeting with his father. Slowly Vlad began to extract himself from Scarlett's embrace. Sleepily she yawned and pressed her face against the pillow. Vlad gently tugged the duvet out from underneath her and covered her with it. He bent down to gently kiss her cheek goodbye and breathed in her now familiar scent. He had the strangest feeling that he was falling through space and when he landed it was going to hurt like hell.  
A flashback of his vision flickered across his mind. One night surrounded by rain and darkness, Vlad would look into Scarlett's eyes and experience terror so strong that he trembled at the sight of her. Vlad suppressed the memory as rapidly as it surfaced. Perhaps he should be wary of this beautiful and mysterious girl who could speak fluent Aramaic and didn't notice the coldness of his touch. Yet Scarlett had also saved his unlife, she had looked after him when he said he was unwell and it was her brilliant mind that was tracking down the source for him. The past few days without Scarlett's presence had been dull, grey and meaningless.  
Vlad glanced at the alarm clock on Scarlett's bedside table. There wasn't time to think about the vision. It would have to wait. He left Scarlett's room as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb her. Once outside he was able to take flight and arrived at his lodgings within seconds.  
Dmitri was waiting for him in the reception hall with an annoyed expression on his normally blank face. "Your Highness, I do not think it is appropriate for you to send me away like that." Dmitri had not appreciated the telepathic command from Vlad to wait for him at the Banbury Road mansion.  
Vlad groaned. "Dmitri, you could at least let me take my jacket off before you start!" he complained. "There is no point in you standing outside in the cold all night. I was perfectly safe."  
"No, you weren't," Dmitri disagreed with surprising vehemence. "Alone in a room with a breather, it is the perfect set up for a slayer. The Blood Brotherhood could have been waiting for you outside."  
Vlad held up his hand to indicate that Dmitri should cease talking. His bodyguard obeyed immediately. "Very well, we will discuss security arrangements in the evening. Right now I'm in need of a nap before breakfast. I will see you later."  
Dmitri looked slightly appeased. He nodded his head and stepped back to allow Vlad to ascend the stairs.  
Vlad had chosen the tower room of the mansion; it reminded him of his old tower room in Stokely Castle. Dmitri had been unhappy with Vlad's choice, arguing that a room in the basement would be more secure. Vlad counter-argued that he needed the basement for training. The discussion had terminated on that note. In fairness Dmitri was only trying to do his job, it was just that Vlad found his presence stifling after the freedom of the past few weeks.  
The tower room in Oxford couldn't be more different from his old teenage room in Stokely Castle. A large flat screen television was mounted on the wall. The floor boards were immaculately polished with beeswax. Only the coffin in the centre gave any indication that its occupant wasn't a breather. Vlad clicked his fingers, the lid of his coffin unlocked and he climbed into the dark space.

* * *

The newspaper crackled as it burst into flames. With a shrill shriek of rage, Ingrid tossed the smouldering embers onto the floor. How dare her father defy her authority and position? Ingrid stormed over to the window and glazed unseeingly at the bright city lights. The penthouse of the skyscraper offered spectacular views of Hong Kong but all Ingrid could see was the Count's mocking smile. She was Countess Dracula, sister to the Chosen One and his right hand woman. The rest of the Grand High Council accepted her status as one of Vlad's closest and most important aides. The rest of the clans acknowledged her position as one of the most influential and powerful vampires in the new world that was emerging. Her father on the other hand, the so called great Count Dracula, sneered at her, demeaned her and constantly found petty ways in which he sought to undermine her such as not inviting her to the Halloween Ball. She had every right to be at that ball and to have place of honour beside Vlad. Ingrid's eyes narrowed in determination. She refused to let the Count sideline her in this manner. It was time to assert her authority.  
"Start packing immediately," she snapped at the servant who had just entered the room to check the cause of the scream. "We are going on a little detour."

* * *

Dave slammed the door of the car boot down. "I'll take the first shift at driving," he called to his new slaying partner. After his goodbye with Eva, he felt like he needed the distraction. To his relief Jonathan Van Helsing nodded in agreement. It was always awkward changing slaying partners, you had to get used to each other and the extra pressure of this special assignment wouldn't make the process any easier. Dave was intrigued to be placed with Van Helsing. He knew that the Van Helsing family had a strong tradition of slaying, Eric Van Helsing, Jonathan's father had not been a particularly accomplished slayer, rumour had it he had even failed a slaying inspection months before his death. In contrast, Jonathan had become known as one of the best slayers in Western Europe. Adding to Jonathan's almost legendary reputation was of course the fact that he had personally known the Chosen One. Rumour had it that he almost defeated the Chosen One in battle.  
Dave settled into the driving seat and ignited the car engine. "So back to England," he said conversationally. "Ever been to Oxford before?"  
A flicker of a smile crossed Jonathan's face. "No, but I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

**Chapter 12 teaser**

_'I would totally let him bite me.'_


	13. Chapter 12

_**Thank you for the reviews! They mean so much to me! Two things:**_

_**(1) Sorry but this chapter is a bit of monster in terms of length but I felt it had to be all in one so apologies if it is too long. Lots of things going on in this chapter and perhaps you will see one reason why Scarlett hasn't figured out Vlad is a vampire... **_

_**(2) Sorry, just sorry for the ending. **_

_**In the words of HyaHya keep biting, keep writing xo**_

_**Ps I haven't misspelt Mum – Scarlett is Irish and 'Mam' is how some Irish people say mum. xo**_

**Chapter 12**

The sun, a burning orb of red-orange, was finally sinking in the horizon. The sky was ablaze with vibrant colours of red and yellow intermingling with the cold black of the encroaching night. Count Dracula shifted restlessly from one foot to another waiting until it was safe for him to leave the confines of his castle. Deep in thought, he failed to notice the beauty of the sunset. Once the last glimmer of red-orange dipped below the horizon, he transformed into a bat which gave him the freedom to fly in the cool night air without alarming the peasants below. The sensation of the air beneath his wings was still as pleasurable as it had been over six hundred years ago when he first transformed.

Flight enabled him to organise his thoughts which were focused on his son and heir as usual. Vladdy's reaction to the Guild's proposal of a peace treaty had been decidedly muted. He had anticipated that his son would be overjoyed at the news but instead Vladdy was suspicious. His son suspected the Guild was going after the source and biding their time before launching an attack. Yet he still refused to sanction any form of retaliation against the breathers. Vladimir was always so ... what was that word? Oh yes merciful. Hell only knew where his son had gotten that particular characteristic.

The Count transformed and landed softly on his feet on the edge of a cliff where he could gaze across the valley. This had been a favourite spot for centuries because from this vantage point he could admire the magnificence of the Dracula castle and the surrounding villages. This land was only part of the legacy which he had bequeathed to his only son and heir. It was only a few years since he had fled the family castle with his children and servant and ended up in the United Kingdom. A peasant mob had reacted badly to his methods of dispute resolution. Apparently eating their clan leaders had been unacceptable. There had been a time where he would have quite happily wiped the villages off the face of the earth but times had changed; he had a young male heir to protect. His decision to flee had of course been much derided by some of the other vampire families. However his return had been triumphant. The very same vampires who had derided him were compelled to bow before him as the Regent.

Preparing for the Halloween Ball reminded him of the arrangements for Vladimir's coronation as the Chosen One. He had always known his son was going to change the world but even he could never have anticipated that Vladimir would be the Chosen One – a legend of the vampiric world.

He would never forget the night that Vladimir was crowned. The castle had been packed to the rafters with vampires from around the world. It was not just the clan leaders who attended, nearly every member of each clan had attended, all of them intrigued to see the so called Chosen One. Rows upon rows of candles had blazed and the blood ran freely. Despite Vladdy's vehement veto of human sacrifices, no one could say the Draculas didn't know how to throw a party. He still remembered with a shiver of delight how the crowds had instantly hushed at Vladimir's appearance on the red carpet. As Regent, it had been his duty to crown his son. Standing at the end of the hall, holding the Crown of Power and watching his son's progress up the red carpet, the Count thought he was going to burst with pride. Vladimir had been resplendent in traditional vampire attire of morning dress and cloak. Rows of vampires fell to their knees one by one as Vladimir passed them. Before Vladimir kneeled at his feet to be crowned, the Count had caught a glance of his son's face, the memory still troubled him. Vladdy had been whiter than white, pale even for a vampire, his expression an agonising mixture of sadness, determination and resignation but it was his son's eyes that still stung the Count's conscience when he lay in his coffin unable to sleep in the day. Sparkling sapphire blue his eyes revealed the anguished pain of someone in living hell. Nonetheless the Count still placed the crown upon his son's head. What happened next proved indisputably to all present that Vladimir Dracula was the Chosen One.

The ground rumbled with ferocity behind their feet, lightning sparked through the medieval hall and a strange blue-purple light surrounded Vladimir as he rose to his feet and turned to face his people. Vladimir rose into the air, lightning dancing around his figure, the light surrounding him almost too painful to look at. Some of them, only a handful, had witnessed a similar phenomenon five years earlier when a thirteen year old Vladimir had placed the crown on his head in the middle of a fight to the death with slayers. It was both a terrifying and inspiring sight for all vampires present whether or not they had seen the preview. Vladimir's voice, deep, harsh and majestic, echoed throughout the hall and within their heads at the same time. "Vampires recognise me. I am the Chosen One."

Vladimir gracefully descended back onto the ground and suddenly all the light and noise appeared to flow back into him leaving the hall candlelit and silent.

Yes, there were many reasons why the Count would never forget the night his son was crowned. His overwhelming pride for his son and the glorious sight of his son glittering with power were the memories he treasured. But when he was tossing and turning in his coffin, it was that dreadful memory of his son's eyes which haunted him.

* * *

Professor Teverson's hands closed tightly around the small bottle. "What is it?"

Father James settled himself back into the armchair and began shifting through the papers on his lap. "Argentulium. It's an alloy of silver and garlic. The Guild has perfected the art of keeping it in liquid form at room temperature without losing any of its potency." He glanced up at Professor Teverson. "It will protect you. It drains the vampire's powers."

"Like a vampiric equivalent of pepper spray." Professor Teverson tucked the bottle into her pocket.

Father James chuckled quietly. "Yes." He set aside the papers. "I trust you are providing appropriate diversionary material to the Chosen One?"

"Of course." Professor Teverson frowned slightly. "I still disagree with your decision to let him come to Oxford. Every minute he is here, he is placing my students in danger."

Father James sighed in derision. "It was hardly my decision. The Chosen One was always going to seek out the source. We merely decided to delay him." He picked up his cup and saucer. "Do speak freely Professor Teverson. I sense you are troubled."

"I just find it difficult to understand how the source can be so important to the Order and yet you lost it! I don't understand why you are placing me under such pressure to get the source now. It's been missing for years, why the sudden urgency?" Professor Teverson rubbed her temples slowly with her fingers.

"Professor Teverson, you do recall the history of Tudor England. It was a violate environment with bloodshed on both sides of the religious divide. Our priest died before he was able to pass on the location of the source. Upon Queen Elizabeth's ascension to the throne, the members of the Old Religion had to flee therefore our abilities to search for the source were curtailed. All we had was a story that the source was in Oxford." Father James leant back in his seat and gazed intently at Professor Teverson noting the dark circles under her eyes and her unhealthy pallor. "The source has only become a matter of urgency because the Chosen One has emerged. I understand your concern. I think you should take the rest of the day off and spend some time with your family. Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard."

Professor Teverson hesitated for too long before responding. "No, really I am fine."

"No really you are not," said Father James firmly. "This is my fault I have been much too harsh on you. I will review the latest developments in your research and discuss them with you in a few days."

Professor Teverson nodded tiredly. "Thank you." She stood up and gathered her belongings. "Are you quite sure that having that creature in my college is necessary? I am responsible for their well-being. If there is any way of getting rid of it as soon as possible..."

"By it you mean Vladimir Dracula?" asked Father James his voice sharply edged with disapproval. "He's not just a vampire..."

"I know! He's the Chosen One!" Professor Teverson replied brusquely.

Father James shook his head. "I was going to say he's also a person."

Professor Teverson raised her eyebrows at his reply. "Not in my opinion," she murmured under her breath as she turned away from the priest.

* * *

Heavy and foreboding clouds were hanging low in the sky. The rain was a soft constant mizzle, the sort of deceptively light rain that still ended up soaking your clothes. It was a dreary afternoon where even the light appeared grey and listless. Vlad opened the front door and decided that the conditions were perfect for making a daylight escape from the confines of his lodgings. He had been unable to sleep after the meeting with his father. Too many thoughts were swirling around inside his head. The sudden proposal of peace from the Guild, the pressure to locate the source and the Halloween Ball just to name a few. However his father was right about one thing, whatever Vlad's doubts about the sincerity of the Guild's peace proposal, it was still something worth celebrating.

He focused his mind on gathering together the tiny droplets of moisture and suspending them in the air so that they formed a mist. It was a highly unusual skill that he developed during his training. Powerful vampires like his father were able to exert basic influence over the weather through thunder and lightning but Vlad's ability to control the elements in this manner was exceptional. Within minutes a thick mist was curling around his legs. Vlad stepped outside the mansion and shut the front door behind him. In the cold cloudy fog, he had perfect protection from the sunlight.

* * *

Tamara groaned as Charlie entered the common room and headed straight for her. "Tams, what's going on? Is it true what I've just heard?"

Tamara rolled her eyes. How typical of Charlie to get involved in something that was none of her business. "Look this is between me and Scarlett!" Tamara rolled up her magazine and shoved it into her bag. "I don't this hassle from anyone let alone you!" She stood up but Charlie blocked her path.

"Just answer me, did you come onto Vladimir Count?" Charlie placed her hands on her hips.

Tamara pushed past Charlie. "No, he came onto me," she shot back over her shoulder.

Charlie followed Tamara out of the common room and into the Fountain Quad. "But you said no? Right? Because that's what a friend does? She doesn't hit on the lad that her mate fancies."

Tamara spun around dramatically. "Yeah, well maybe you should tell that to Scarlett!" she snapped. Perhaps if Charlie knew her suspicions about Scarlett, she would see things differently and take her side for a change.

"What do you mean by that?" Charlie asked warily.

Tamara shrugged casually and began to walk off but Charlie grabbed her arm. Charlie's face was full of doubt. Tamara sighed theatrically. "OK how about her and Robin? Don't you ever get suspicious of how close they are? Don't you think it's weird how she is always saying nice things about him. How she hugs him. Their cosy little chats. Alone in her room." Tamara folded her arms and gave Charlie a pitying look.

Charlie let go of Tamara's arm and stepped back. "Are you suggesting...?" she asked in an incredulous tone.

"Yeah, Either they are doing it already or it's only a matter of time before Scarlett gets her way." Tamara shrugged dismissively as if she were discussing some celebrity gossip rather than insinuating that Charlie's boyfriend and best friend were cheating on her.

"Before Scarlett gets her own way?" Charlie repeated the words as if she were in shock. "Tams, are you really suggesting that Scarlett is out to get my boyfriend?"

"Duh! It's painfully obvious!" Tamara patted Charlie's arm in a gesture of false sympathy."I know you like to think the best of people and Scarlett is our friend. Or at least she is supposed to be. You wouldn't think it from the way she carries on with Robin and all those other guys. She has always has to be the centre of attention. Always has to be different from everyone else. Flaunting herself in red lipstick and low cut dresses. Boasting about her amazing exam results and flaunting her scholarship in everyone's face. She puts on the whole innocent act. I'm just a poor little Covent girl. Everyone loves her, her life is so perfect and she wants to rub my face in it!" Tamara felt the hatred and jealousy pour out of her. Overwhelmed slightly at her rant, she caught her breath and looked at Charlie. It must have been a trick of the light but for a second Charlie's eyes appeared to flash a vivid and impossible turquoise blue. "Don't you see Charlie?" she asked falteringly.

Charlie nodded her head. "Oh yes, Tams I see everything," she said in a strangely sad voice. Without another word Charlie turned away from her and walked back into the common room.

* * *

"He is just so hot!"

"Yeah, vampires are like so sexy."

"I know! I would totally let him bite me."

"Seriously?" Vlad set down his newspaper and gave the girls in question an incredulous look.

The two girls looked slightly taken back. Vlad Count was just as strikingly handsome sober and close up as he was from a drunken distance. Ellen was the first to respond. "Not a True Blood fan then!" she smiled flirtatiously. She gestured to the magazine that they had been poring over.

Vlad didn't move from his comfy position lounging on one of the leather sofas. "No, not really. I don't understand the whole vampires are sexy thing."

"What's not to understand? They are gorgeous, strong and powerful! How is that not sexy?" Sarah was the first to respond this time. She twirled her hair around her fingers in a subconscious gesture of flirting as she smiled at Vlad.

"Yeah and they consider you food," Vlad replied with a brutal honesty that neither of the girls would ever understand. He frowned in bewilderment. "I mean when was the last time anyone took a bite out of you? Being bitten is painful not sexy." He stopped as he took in the crestfallen faces of the two girls. "Just a thought," he added awkwardly.

"Whatever! I bet being bitten by a vampire would be like totally sexy," Ellen shot Vlad a defiant glare.

"I agree with Vlad. I don't like the thought of being anyone's dessert."

At the sound of Scarlett's softly accented voice, Vlad hastily sat up. For a moment he thought she was wearing a vampire cape but at a second glance he realised she was dressed in long black academic robes with a vivid red satin lining. She was wearing the black and white uniform that Oxford University was so famed for in photographs and postcards.

"You're wearing red satin," Vlad grinned wickedly as he met her eyes.

"And it's not even a Saturday." Her mischievous smile was at odds with the pale pink blush creeping across her face.

Ellen and Sarah observed this exchange with raised eyebrows and sour facial expressions. It was further fuel for the gossip that Vlad Count's latest conquest was going to be the frosty Scarlett Collins. Vlad was gorgeous but Scarlett had the reputation of being a frigid bitch when it came to college gossip. Of course it was entirely possible that this was the reason why Vlad was pursuing her. Some boys loved a challenge.

Ellen decided to break up the smiling contest between the two. "Scarlett I thought you liked True Blood!"

"Oh I do but I find the vampires rather disappointing. They are so modern! I prefer my vampires to be more traditional." Scarlett responded to Ellen without breaking eye contact with Vlad.

"Traditional? Like what?" Ellen demanded sulkily.

"Capes," Scarlett answered decisively. "I don't think they are proper vampires if they fail to wear the cape. I love a cape." She gestured at her academic gown with a self deprecating smile. "Better add evening dress to that as well just to be on the safe side. I don't think capes really go with tracksuits. They should live in castles which are wonderfully atmospheric and spooky. And let's not forget the ability to shape shift. A real vampire should be able to transform into a bat or a wolf."

Vlad swallowed awkwardly as various thoughts rushed through his mind. Dad would like her, he's a stickler for tradition. Seriously capes? I've got capes. I've got a castle too. A couple of them in fact. Her description is too close to the reality of a traditional vampire. I like the modern vampires! OK, being sparkly is weird but there is nothing wrong about not wearing a cape!

"You're such a geek," groaned Ellen. She rolled her eyes. "You and your vampire mythology project."

"Well, the important thing is that vampires are not real. Right?" Vlad attempted a bright and breezy laugh.

Scarlett, Ellen and Sarah all gazed at him condescendingly. "Well, duh!" Ellen rolled her eyes again making Vlad smile grimly at her obvious disdain.

"It's unusual to see you in the common room," Scarlett remarked. She set her pile of books down on the nearest sofa and reached up to tie back her hair.

Vlad hesitated before standing up. It was nerve racking enough to ask Scarlett out without the captive audience of Ellen and Sarah. Even after last night, he wasn't confident that she would say yes. He carefully kept his face expressionless as he spoke. "I had some good news from my Dad and I feel like celebrating. I thought you might like to join me for afternoon tea at that champagne cafe you mentioned."

"Really?" Scarlett's face lit up with a radiant smile.

Vlad nodded cautiously. Much to his delight, Scarlett flung her arms around his neck in an excited hug. The unexpected impact of her soft warm body against him was a sensuous shock. He hugged her back tightly and whirled her around slightly making her laugh and her hair tumble down from its half complete bun.

As Vlad released her, Scarlett looked down at her uniform with a rueful smile. "I should get changed."

Vlad gently tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "No, you look perfect," he said softly.

* * *

The Champagne Cafe was one of the oldest coffee shops in England. It's opulent blue and gold exterior screamed grandeur whilst it's interior of glittering chandeliers and marble columns didn't disappoint. Vlad had ordered the champagne version of the afternoon tea which included plates of tiny sandwiches, delicate cakes and freshly baked scones. The tea was served in small fragile cups edged with gold and the napkins starched to perfect stiffness. As the afternoon turned into evening, the staff discreetly placed candles on their tables, cleared the dishes away and maintained a steady supply of champagne.

Scarlett sipped another glass of perfectly chilled champagne savouring the crisp taste of the bubbles on her tongue. She looked across the table at Vlad hoping that her admiration wasn't too obvious. In the warm yellow light of the candles he looked more gorgeous than ever. Her heart skipped a few beats as she imagined what it would be like to kiss him. During the course of the afternoon tea Vlad had begun to open up. Maybe it was an attempt to get her to talk more about herself or perhaps it was just the copious amounts of champagne that they were consuming. Whatever the reason, she had managed to get Vlad to talk about his time in Wales with Robin. It was amazing how animated and happy he became when recalling stories about what he and Robin used to get up to. She caught a glimpse of the younger carefree boy he used to be.

"So why did you leave Stokely? It sounds like you were really happy there." She regretted her question as Vlad's eyes shadowed with darkness. "Sorry Vladimir, you don't have to answer that."

Vlad sat back in his seat and stared at the candle for a minute or two. His voice was lower than usual when he finally spoke. "Truthfully, it was my sister. She went off the rails when her boyfriend was killed. Dad and I had to leave for our own safety."

"You left her alone?" The words came out before she could even think what she was saying. She held her hand up to her mouth in horror.

"Yeah, we did." Vlad met her gaze challengingly. "She was going to kill both of us. I can't even begin to describe how out of control she was. Dad did what he had to do to keep me safe. There were times when I wanted to go back for her, after all she is my sister, but Dad warned against it. He thought she was too dangerous. You can judge me all you want but when a couple of years later when she actually needed help I was there." Vlad downed his glass of champagne angrily and slammed it down on the table. The fragile stem broke in his hand.

"Are you ok?" Scarlett leant over and grabbed his hand examining it in the candlelight. He appeared to be unscathed. "You're lucky you didn't cut yourself!" she admonished him.

Vlad pulled his hand away abruptly. He glowered out of the window refusing to look at her.

Maybe it was time for her to open up to Vlad. He had shared so much with her and she kept holding back. Scarlett took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm sorry for being judgemental. I just have this thing about parents abandoning their children," she said haltingly in a low voice. "It's what my parents did to me. Kind of a touchy subject."

Vlad looked at her suspiciously. "You said you were an orphan?"

"I am. My mam and dad were perfect parents. I had a wonderful childhood. Daddy was a professor, he would work at home so he could look after me. He taught me to read. I remember him teaching me the alphabet when I was so very little. He used to push me so high on the swing and I knew he would catch me if I fell. Mam was the loveliest mother in the whole world. She always smelt of vanilla. She used to make me cheese on toast when I didn't feel well. I always thought she was a princess because she was so beautiful. Then one night they dragged me out of bed, they said we needed to go somewhere in hurry, I was wearing Daddy's coat over my pyjamas. It was pitch black when we were driving through the night. They left me at a Convent, I remember the nuns holding me back. I was crying I didn't want them to leave. I remember having this terrible foreboding feeling. They promised that they were coming back. A few days later their car was discovered at the foot of some cliffs. The verdict was death by misadventure but I heard the rumours. I knew people were saying it was suicide. Since then my life has been so different." As she finished speaking, Scarlett became aware of the tears pouring down her face and of Vlad's hand gently but firmly holding onto hers. "Sorry Vladimir, it puts a bit of downer on the evening." She attempted to smile through her tears.

Without letting go of her hand, Vlad shuffled his chair around the table so that he was sitting beside her. "Don't worry about it." With his free hand, he tenderly wiped her tears away with a napkin. "Let's go back to Winterville, I'll even let you make me some hot chocolate," he said teasingly to break the tension.

It worked. Scarlett burst out laughing and swatted the napkin away. "How could any girl turn down that offer?" she asked in mock puzzlement. Vlad's shrug of exaggerated bewilderment made her laugh again.

Vlad moved to collect their coats but suddenly froze as he caught a glimpse of the mirrored wall opposite them. He stared at the young man who gazed directly back at him with confusion on his pale face. It was a face that he had half forgotten. His reflection looked different, older, somehow darker than before. His reflection? Doubting his eyesight, Vlad raised his hand to brush his dark hair off his forehead. His reflection mimicked him perfectly.

"Admiring yourself?" Scarlett asked in amusement.

Vlad turned to look at her. "No," he said feeling faintly embarrassed at being caught out.

Scarlett continued to smile knowingly. She slipped her hand out of his so that she could put on her coat. Vlad turned back to the mirror but it was empty again.

They left the Champagne Cafe, stepping into the mist and darkness. Walking along the dark and twisting lanes to Winterville College, Vlad held her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Shrouded in the mist, Oxford's beauty was more haunting than ever. Even though the light from the street lamps was dulled by the mist, Scarlett felt safe walking home with Vlad. As they stepped in through the stately wooden doors of Winterville, they almost collided with a familiar figure.

"Hi Charlie!" Scarlett greeted her best friend enthusiastically. "Finally I get to introduce you two! Charlie, this is Vlad, Vlad this is Charlie." Scarlett's smile began to fade as Charlie and Vlad exchanged wary looks.

Vlad was the first to speak. "Hi Charlie, nice to meet you." He stepped forward and extended his hand.

Charlie's eyes narrowed and she didn't move to shake his hand.

Horrified at her friend's unusual behaviour, Scarlett gave her a meaningful nudge with her elbow. "Charlie! What are you playing at? He won't bite!"

"Oh I wouldn't be so sure of that." Robin stepped out of the mist and confronted his old best friend. "Hi Vlad."

**Chapter 13 teaser**

'"_How do you know that I've..."'_


	14. Chapter 13

_**Thank you guys for the lovely reviews! It's so amazing to have people comment on the plot and on my writing : ) Wow HyaHya I'm super impressed you picked up that point about Charlie but spoilers...! **_

_**I wasn't going to post today because I have been rather ill all week but I thought it would be far too mean to do that after Chapter 12's cliff hanger. (I hate cliff hangers) So here it is- Vlad and Robin. I hope I've done it justice because I totally *heart* the Vlad and Robin relationship. Hope you enjoy it! **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 13**

"_What are you doing?"_

"_Aren't you going to bite me?"_

"_Bite you? Why would I want to bite you?"_

"_You can if you want."_

"_No!"_

* * *

Vlad stood, frozen to the spot in shock at the appearance of his former best friend. It took several very long seconds before he was able to respond. "Robin?" he said disbelievingly.

"Yeah." Robin's voice was grim.

The shock must have numbed Vlad's senses because before he could react Robin managed to land a punch in his face. Vlad barely flinched from the force which would have resulted in a broken nose if he had been a breather. Or any other vampire if he was being honest. He meet Robin's dark angry gaze with icy coldness.

"That's for running off and leaving me in Stokely!" Robin snarled. He moved towards Vlad to punch him again. This time Vlad caught his fist in mid air. The two young men glowered at each other.

"I. Remember. Everything." Robin emphasised each word with great bitterness as Vlad released him.

Vlad's eyes widened in surprise. "Everything?" he raised his eyebrows sceptically.

"Everything." Robin's answer was loaded with meaning.

Charlie and Scarlett quickly stepped in between them. "I thought he was your best friend!" Charlie hissed at Robin.

Both Vlad and Robin pointedly looked away. Vlad appeared to be examining the ornate carvings on the entrance gate. Robin was suddenly transfixed by his boots.

"He deserved that," Robin mumbled defiantly under his breath.

"Perhaps," Vlad answered coldly.

Charlie and Scarlett looked at each other in exasperation both of them wondering what to do next.

"So...?" Charlie said slowly and pointedly, "This is interesting." She received no response from Robin or Vlad.

"Cup of tea?" Scarlett suggested.

Charlie nodded. "Sounds good. My place?"

"Sure." Scarlett linked arms with Charlie and they began to walk away.

Vlad and Robin stared after them in outrage.

"Er ...where do you think you're going?" Robin demanded.

"You can't just leave us like this!" Vlad folded his arms across his chest in annoyance.

"Precisely!" Robin exchanged a look of disgust with Vlad and copied his stance.

Charlie and Scarlett paused and looked over their shoulders. "We are going to have tea and cookies," Charlie said with mock sweetness.

"You can talk in my room, door is on the latch. If you are going to fight take it outside," Scarlett warned them. With a couple more steps, the girls disappeared into the mist consumed by the cold whiteness.

Robin and Vlad studied each other appraisingly. Robin noted that Vlad had grown taller, his light brown hair had turned jet black, his complexion was now deathly pale and there was a stealthy grace to his movements. It was more than appearance though; he could almost sense the power that lurked beneath the calm exterior of his old friend. Vlad observed that Robin still had a preference for gothic clothing including a long leather coat. His dark hair was slightly longer, his paleness had been replaced by a light tan and he even had freckles. Judging from the force behind the punch, he was also now a fan of the gym. The silence was deafening as the mist gently floated around them.

"We should talk." Vlad begrudgingly broke the silence.

Robin slowly unfolded his arms. "Yeah. Suppose so. But don't you even think about hypnotising me," he said warningly.

Vlad kept his face expressionless. "As long as you don't stake me," he replied grimly.

* * *

"_Just because you aren't a vampire doesn't mean you can't be evil."_

"_Thanks Vlad, you're my best mate. You know that, don't you?"_

"_Robin I'm your only mate."_

"_Exactly."_

* * *

Vlad sat on the edge of the armchair and watched as Robin moved around Scarlett's room with great familiarity as he collected cups and began boiling the kettle. Robin handed Vlad a cup of tea before settling himself down on the sofa.

"Picked the habit up from the girls. Total tea fiends!" This time it was Robin who broke the silence.

"You certainly know your way around," Vlad remarked sourly. He set the cup down on the coffee table and sat back in his chair. He tilted his head arrogantly and gave Robin a sneering look.

The corner of Robin's mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. Vlad probably had no idea that he looked exactly like his father when he adopted that pose. "I can't believe it's actually you!" he said in strangely quiet voice. "It's been so many years."

Vlad nodded unsmilingly.

"So are you...?"

"What do you think?" Vlad's answer came out more aggressively than he intended.

"Your hair is black. I guess that happened when you turned...sixteen." Robin stirred more sugar into his tea as he waited for Vlad to answer. When Vlad remained silent, Robin set down the spoon with a clatter. "Vlad are you a fully fanged vampire or not?" he demanded.

Vlad's eyes turned black and flashed his fangs at Robin as an answer.

"Awesome!" exclaimed Robin. "Wicked fangs mate."

A laugh escaped Vlad before he regained his stony composure.

"So you are the Chosen One then?" Robin raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Why do you want to know? So you can inform the Guild? Or were you planning to slay me yourself?" Vlad challenged his former friend. As soon as his senses had gotten over the shock of coming face to face with Robin, he realised what his friend had become. There was no denying it. He had smelt the taint in Robin's blood. The pain of it sat heavily in his unbeating heart.

Robin didn't deny it. "How do you know that I've..." he asked almost too quietly to be heard.

"I can smell it. Slaying taints the blood. The scent of a killer is unmistakable." Vlad struggled slightly to keep his composure. The Robin he had known so many years ago loved vampires. He had wanted to become one of the undead. He had helped Vlad and his family when they were threatened by slayers. Vlad had often wondered what became of Robin but he had never dreamt of this.

Robin laughed bitterly. "Who are you to judge?"

* * *

"_Sorry I was so..."_

"_Cunning? Manipulative? Downright evil?"_

"_A real chip off the old block."_

"_You did come through in the end, I guess."_

* * *

Robin stood up and stalked over to the window. "You have no idea what you left behind. You and the Count just ran off. Ingrid was torn apart at the death of Will and in turn she decided she would rip Stokely apart. She was out of control. It wasn't safe to walk the streets at night. She killed people Vlad. They didn't volunteer to be bitten. She couldn't control herself; she was still learning how to use her powers and that meant people were suffering. It was bloodshed and chaos. Maybe that's what I thought was cool but my family was in the middle of it. You mind wiped them – remember? They forgot all about the existence of vampires. It was dangerous. Anything vampiric could lead to them collapsing as the memories resurfaced and had to be wiped out again.

Of course with all the disappearances and terror the Guild sent reinforcements to Stokely. Did you even know about the war between Ingrid and the Guild? She recruited more vampires. The Guild sent more slayers. Van Helsing was murdered. He wasn't even able to defend himself. At the sight of the vampires' fangs your mind wipe caused him to collapse. They ripped him to pieces. I witnessed it Vlad. I remember the silence. No sound except the tearing of flesh and the gush of blood. At least he was unconscious; maybe he didn't feel the pain.

So yeah I went to the Guild and I asked for help to defend my family. I trained with them, I learnt how to slay and when the time came I killed to defend my family. I never became a member of the Guild because I refused to slay vampires unless it was in defence. I never hunted down any vampire. I never staked for the thrill of it. My family's necks were on the line and I did what I had to do to protect them. So you can come off your throne and stop judging me!" Robin's voice had started off low and bitter but now as he turned around from the window, he was shouting. "Where were you Vlad? If you are the Chosen One why didn't you come back and save us?"

Vlad's face had blanched to a shade paler than usual. He sat very still as Robin continued to yell at him. Words, which had been building up for years, came tumbling out of this mouth.

"You left me! You were the only friend I ever had. One minute I had a vampire for a best mate and the next I was all alone. No one could remember what you were. Not even Chloe. I never fitted into my family, I was always the Goth weirdo at home and school. It was only with you and your family I felt normal. Have you any idea what it's like to be on your own? To have nobody? I was bullied all the way through school. I could slay vampires but I couldn't do anything to protect myself against my brothers or any of the other bullies. Moving away didn't help. No vampires but still plenty of bullies. Once my family were safe I had nothing to live for anymore." Robin stormed over to Vlad. He shoved up the sleeve of his leather coat to show Vlad the scars on his wrists. Vlad flinched at the sight "I tried to kill myself a couple of times. Then one day Chloe showed me the prospectus for History at Oxford. She told me about the course on supernatural history. I thought it might be a good start to tracking you down." Robin flopped onto the sofa in sudden exhaustion drained by his emotional outburst. "You should have come back." His last words were an accusatory whisper.

"Robin, I'm...I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry." Sorrow and regret made it difficult to speak but Vlad struggled to say the words anyway.

Robin looked up at him with heartbreaking pain in his eyes. "Did you forget about me?"

"No!" Vlad shook his head vehemently. "I thought about you and Stokely all the time. Believe me I do know what it's like to be on your own. You were my best friend, my only real friend. Possibly the only real friend I've ever had. I thought the mind wipe would protect breathers and vampires. I thought you wouldn't remember what I really was. If I went back and found you then maybe things wouldn't be the same. I didn't know how bad things had gotten in Stokely. Dad and I had to flee. The Crown of Power was too much for me. I was only thirteen and I hadn't transformed yet. I collapsed, I nearly died. Ingrid was going to kill us both so that she could claim the title of Countess Dracula and inherit all the power and wealth that she wanted. " Vlad looked deep into his friend's eyes and saw the deep pain that Robin had carried around for all these years. "It wasn't just Ingrid that we were fleeing from," he said softly. "I am the Chosen One. From the moment I put the crown on my head my fate was set in motion. I revealed myself to the clan leaders but I hadn't come into my full powers yet. I was an easy target for assassination so we went into hiding until I gained my full powers and turned eighteen. Turns out despite vampires undergoing the change at sixteen, the minimum age for being crowned Grand High Vampire is eighteen. In fairness most Grand High Vampires are centuries old so it's not like they were expecting an underage vampire to claim the title. Dad assumed the title of Regent and bought a breather school up in the North of England. We lived in isolation for most of that period until I returned to Transylvania to be crowned on my eighteenth birthday."

* * *

"_I don't know what to do Robin. Do you think I'm the Chosen One?"_

"_Don't be daft. You're a rubbish vampire. There's no way it's you."_

"_Thanks."_

"_Maybe I'm the Chosen One."_

* * *

"So you really are the Grand High Vampire?" Robin asked sounding more than a little awestruck. "I'm friends with the Grand High Vampire!"

Vlad chuckled. "It's not as exciting as it sounds. Lots of paperwork, laws, council meetings..."he trailed off as he remembered his daily routine in Transylvania and compared it to the glorious freedom he had in Oxford.

"So can you fly? Have you bitten anyone? Can you transform into a bat? Do you have a coffin now?" The questions came tumbling out of Robin.

"Er yes, no, yes and yes," Vlad answered in order. "Robin, I am not the person I used to be..."

Robin interrupted with a snigger. "Yeah, I heard about the exploits of Vlad Count. To think we couldn't even get girlfriends in school and now you're some kind of player."

Instead of returning Robin's gleeful grin, Vlad frowned. "Robin I am a vampire now and I am the Chosen One. I've got the future of vampire kind resting on my shoulders. The Guild and the Blood Brotherhood want me dead. I'm not... it's just different now." Vlad was struggling to find the words to express his fears. What he really wanted to say was what if you don't like me anymore? What if you don't want to be my friend?

"You're Vlad." Robin's voice was firm and steady. "I've been trying to find my best mate again for years so you can put away your fangs and shut up." He paused and gave Vlad a friendly punch on the shoulder. "And possibly buy me a pint."

* * *

"_Robin, the crown. Now"_

* * *

**Chapter 14 teaser:**

_'I've never seen a vampire like you before.'_


	15. Chapter 14

_**Thank you so much for the positive reviews for Chapter 13. I was really worried about that chapter because I wanted to do justice to Robin and Vlad's reunion so I am super happy that it wasn't a disappointment! Should I include more Robin from now on? What do you think? **_

_**I hope this chapter isn't too boring because it gets a bit historical. Thanks so much for reading this. I hope you are still enjoying the fic! **_

**_xo_ **

**Chapter 14**

The white softness of the mist floated along the echoing cloisters wrapping itself around the ornate columns and lurking at the corners of the arches. Vlad stepped out into the coolness of the night and paused for a second to appreciate the beauty of Winterville College. He was poised for flight when Charlie's voice rang out. "Not so fast Batman!"

Vlad sighed with annoyance as he turned to face the medium. "Batman?" he asked quizzically.

"Yeah on account of your best mate being Robin and you having the ability to transform into a bat. Kinda seems appropriate." Charlie held up her hand to silence him. "Don't even think about denying it. I know what you are and you know what I am."

A brief smile flickered over Vlad's mouth as he recalled his conversation with Robin this evening.

"_You have a girlfriend?" _

"_Ha ha! But yeah I know. Charlie is fit. Ian and Paul couldn't believe their eyes when I brought her home." _

"_She knows what I am."_

"_I didn't tell her. I've kept your secrets all these years."_

"_I know. She sensed it."_

"_Oh yeah, she's a medium." _

"_You know?"_

"_Yeah, of course I know! Come on Vlad, my best mate is a vampire, one of my school teachers was a slayer and I once beat an eighteenth century mummy at chess. I think having a medium for a girlfriend is least of my worries."_

"Yes, so it seems. You're a medium and I'm a vampire." Vlad gestured with his hands as if to say what are you going to do about it?

"Robin should have told me. He should have told Scarlett!" Charlie planted her hands on her hips and eyeballed Vlad.

"No-one is telling Scarlett!" Vlad snarled the words before he could restrain himself. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking in a much calmer voice. "Robin promised to keep my secret. He said you would too."

"He had no right to make that promise on my behalf," Charlie shook her head disagreeably. "Look no offence but you're the blood sucking undead! I think you can understand my concern. I don't want my friend getting involved with you. I like her alive."

Vlad sighed in exasperation. "I don't suck anyone's blood! I live blood free. I'm not going to kill anyone! Not Scarlett, not Robin and not you." He groaned with frustration. "I'm so sick of people making assumptions about who I am. This is why I don't want Scarlett to know. Right now, she thinks I'm a normal breather, she treats me like a normal person and we do normal things like eat cheese on toast and watch television and why are you looking at me like that?" Vlad stopped mid rant to glare at Charlie whose face conveyed a curious mixture of guilt and understanding.

"Look, I may have jumped to conclusions," she began clumsily. "It's not like I don't understand what it's like to want normality. In the words of Bruce Willis I see dead people. Or was it the little boy who said that? Anyway you know what I mean. I totally get why you want to be normal. But you know he's my boyfriend and she's my best friend and I don't want to lose them. Most vampires think of us as food. I have strong objections to my boyfriend and best friend being eaten."

Vlad laughed disbelievingly. Despite the situation he could see why Robin and Charlie had clicked. They both shared an incredibly sarcastic sense of humour. "I'm not going to hurt them." He gestured at himself. "Can't you read me? See that I don't drink blood?"

Charlie scuffed her ballet pump on the stones as she avoided his gaze. "Yeah. I kinda already did that..."

"So you can see that I don't drink blood?" Vlad pressed her.

Charlie kept scuffing her shoes. "Yeah."

"Yet you still tackled me?" Vlad asked with a disapproving frown.

"Also yeah." Charlie peeked up at him with a slightly cheeky smile.

Despite his intentions to remain stern Vlad found himself smiling back. "You must be some friend," he said with begrudging admiration.

Charlie relaxed slightly. "Robin and Scarlett mean everything to me. They accept who I am. I don't feel the need to pretend around them." She leant against one of the stone columns. "I know what's like to be different." She met Vlad's gaze with a hint of challenge in her eyes. "I don't like lying to my best friend. You should tell her the truth."

Vlad shook his head vehemently. "No," he asserted firmly.

"She knows what I am. It doesn't bother her. Scarlett knows that there is more to this world. She ..." Charlie struggled to articulate her argument. "She just knows."

Vlad watched with suspicion the conflicting emotions that passed over Charlie's face. "Tell me what you see when you look at Scarlett." He moved slowly towards Charlie, his voice becoming soft and persuasive as his eyes turned green.

Charlie laughed scornfully. "Watch it Batman! I'm a medium remember? Hypnosis doesn't work on us. I see through the veil separating this world from others." She gave Vlad a smug smile.

"Yes, of course," Vlad replied silkily as he snapped his fingers. "I was just curious as to whether being the Chosen One changed that." Vlad's gaze swept over the frozen figure of Charlie before him. "Clearly it does." For a moment he felt a pinprick of panic press upon his consciousness at the strength of his power. He forced himself to focus on the merits of his current situation. "Tell me Charlie, what do you see when you look at Scarlett?" he commanded.

Charlie's voice was whimsical and vague. "She dazzles. Looking at her is like looking at the sun. She burns so brightly. Like someone took the stars from the night sky and scattered them around her. She sparkles, she dazzles, she burns. Such beauty. Oh but such pain!" Charlie's voice suddenly filled with anguish. "Such terrible pain in her. It hurt so bad I couldn't help but try to save her. I had to reach out." Tears were threatening to spill down Charlie's cheeks. "So much pain in one person."

"Do you know what she is?" Vlad demanded.

Charlie shook her head. "I've never see an aura like hers before."

Vlad raised his fingers to click them again. It seemed that Charlie couldn't enlighten him any further on his vision of Scarlett and listening to Charlie's description of Scarlett's pain felt wrong. It felt like he was intruding.

"I see her in you," Charlie murmured absentmindedly.

Vlad paused. "Explain." Suspicion made his voice hard.

"Where she has a thousand stars, you have a thousand shadows. Your dark reflections surround you. I've never seen a vampire like you before. So much darkness and power in one yet at your core I see light. I wonder what you are?"

"Stop! Stop it!" Vlad's voice was shaky. "When I click my fingers you will remember nothing of this conversation." He noted with disgust that he was trembling. He snapped his fingers abruptly, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the misty night.

Charlie jolted slightly before giving Vlad a derisory smile. "See? Told you Batman!"

Vlad forced himself to smile back at her. "Can't blame me for trying!" He turned away from Charlie and groaned under his breath as a large figure came looming out of the mist towards them.

"Your Highness." Dmitri bowed his head respectfully to Vlad but his jaw was taut with annoyance. "I think we need to have that talk about security."

* * *

The black waves lapped at the sides of the ferry. A dull greyness upon the horizon alluded to the oncoming dawn. Bertrand gracefully stretched his body, his back arching as he flexed his muscles. He licked his lips savouring the salty taste of the sea upon them. He leant against the metal railings and watched as the other passengers slowly trickled off the boat and onto the shore.

Briefly he wondered how many times had he landed upon the shores at Dover in the past four centuries. He had always preferred to travel by sea. Towns, cities, countries they all changed as the breathers built, destroyed and rebuilt. For centuries the blue expanse of the oceans had remained unrelentingly constant in the face of breather expansionism. Now even the oceans were being forced to submit to the breathers as they built windfarms and oilrigs. Breathers seemed to think that they had the right to subjugate the world when in fact that right belonged to the vampires.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of a shadow. A fellow vampire stood waiting for him on the dock. Bertrand raised his head slightly in acknowledgement. The vampire on the dock raised his hand in a wave. Concealed in the palm of his hand was a bat shaped badge. Bertrand reached into his pocket and flipped his own badge between his fingers so that he could return the gesture and confirm his membership.

His highly polished shoes made no sound as he moved with a stealthy grace down the metal gangway. An electric flicker of excitement frizzled through him for a second as his feet finally touched English soil. Every step took him closer to Vladimir Dracula.

* * *

The fire crackled as it devoured the peat briquettes. The delicious scent of peat filled the warm cosy room. Father James turned away from the window and back to his desk upon which he had spread the blueprint maps of Winterville College. He traced his fingers over the faded ink upon the medieval manuscript as he softly spoke the words. S_cientia __est i__lluminatio __quae __ponit __te __liberum __a __tenebris__._ Knowledge is the light which sets you free from the darkness.

With a sigh, he reached for the whiskey and poured the rich amber liquid into his glass. He settled down into his comfy chair and stared intently at the maps. During the reign of the Tudors, a number of Oxford colleges had been established and expanded. The source could have been hidden in any number of the Oxford colleges but something was telling him that it had to be Winterville. Father James sipped his whiskey slowly as he considered the various maps before him. As one of the oldest colleges in Oxford, Winterville had undergone a number of extensive changes over the centuries. It was key that they were able to narrow down the sites for excavation otherwise they would attract undue attention. He tapped his fingers against the glass as he stared down at the maps. He had dismissed the church almost instantly. Religious buildings had been ransacked and looted throughout Henry the Eighth's reign. The Order would not have risked placing the source somewhere it could be exposed. As his eyes flitted over the maps the word Wolsey caught his attention. The writing was slightly smudged on the corner of the map detailing the construction of the fountain. A thought began to form in his mind as he pored over the architect's drawing. Mary Tudor had generously bequeathed money to Winterville to redevelop one of their quads so that it had a fountain to rival Wolsey's college. Winterville's redevelopment of the quad had been remarkably swift and if his memory served him correctly the fountain itself had been completed in 1558. The timing was almost perfect. The Order of Light had records that the source was sent to England in the winter of 1557. An influenza epidemic had led to the deaths of both the designated priest and Mary Tudor in the spring of 1558. Excitement began to seep slowly through him. It appeared that they had a possible location for the source. Tomorrow he would make the appropriate arrangements to excavate the fountain.

He allowed himself a slight smile as he reclined back in his chair. His smile faded slightly as his gaze fell upon the framed photographs at the edge of his desk. He reached over and picked up the frame which held two photographs. Grief formed a hard lump in his throat as he gazed upon the first photograph. A beautiful young woman held a newborn baby in her arms. Her smile was radiant. Either side of her were two young men, one dressed in a suit and tie, the other in priest garb. The photograph was almost twenty years old. Time had faded the colours but not the joyful smiles of his brother and his sister in law. He closed his eyes slightly as he remembered the day they posed for the photograph. His brother had been besotted with his new daughter. So proud and loving, he could barely relinquish hold over even to his beloved wife. Such a happy family.

Guilt gnawed away at his insides. If only he had known about the informant. If only the Order had been more careful with the recruitment process. If only he had burned his notes. If only he had been able to reach his brother in time. There were too many if onlys and surely his calling as a priest meant that he was supposed to say it was God's will to take his brother and orphan a child. It was nearly ten years ago since that night and he still couldn't forgive himself. He turned his attention to the other photograph which was much more recent. A beautiful young woman dressed in Oxford sub fusc smiled at the camera. Her long blonde hair was arranged in loose curls around her shoulders. Her red lips were smiling but you could almost sense the sadness that surrounded her. The photograph was of Scarlett Collins. His niece.

* * *

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair as Dave gave him a look of scathing scorn. "Seriously? A girl stopped you from slaying a vampire?" he said with disgust as he threw down his pen.

"Look she wasn't just any girl!" Sam said defensively as he folded his arms and huddled back into his chair. "She was strong! Stronger than usual."

"Or you're just weak," Dave sneered.

Jonno pushed a photograph across the table towards Sam. "Is the same vampire?"

Sam picked up the picture. On closer inspection it was an efit- a computer generated photograph. The vampire's face stared at him out of the page. Sam shivered slightly as he remembered how the vampire had deliberately breathed in the garlic gas_. "Seriously, did you actually think that was going to work?" _"Yes," he nodded his head firmly. "It's the same vampire." He pushed the efit photograph back to Jonno.

"Thanks. You've been very helpful." Jonno folded up the photograph and returned it to his pocket. "You may go now."

"Watch out for any girls. You wouldn't want to get beaten. Again!" Dave called after him.

"Are you quite finished with baiting my slayers?" Thomas, the leader of the Oxford Guild, spoke up from his place in the corner where he had been observing the interview.

Dave shrugged in a disgruntled manner but he didn't answer back.

"So it's unusual to come across vampires in Oxford?" Jonno flicked through his papers. "The last time you have a recorded slaying was back in the 1940s."

Thomas nodded his head gravely. "Oxford has an unusually low occurrence of vampires given it's a student city and therefore ideal for hunting. Our records indicate that it has always been unusually low. Even in the Civil War there were far fewer vampires than anticipated given the prospects for bloodshed."

Jonno tapped his pen thoughtfully on the papers. "Why do you think that is?"

"Probably coz it's too snobby," Dave contributed helpfully.

Thomas glared at him. "Oxford is not just about the university. We do have townspeople. Perfectly ordinary people getting on with their lives." He turned to Jonno. "It is difficult to say. There is a story that Mary Tudor banished the vampires by sacrificing Cramner to the flames. It is true that Oxford has no record of a vampiric plague since the Tudors but I doubt superstitious stories can explain that."

Dave and Jonno exchanged meaningful looks. "Thank you Thomas," Jonno smiled politely. "May I suggest that you increase patrols for the meantime? After all we are on the trail of a vigilante."

"What about the ceasefire?" Thomas asked with a concerned frown.

Jonno reassured him. "This vampire is wanted for heinous crimes. He's a vigilante and as such we are authorised to take any measure to capture or slay him. Do not fear. The Guild may have entered into a ceasefire but we are certainly not expected to stand by and watch innocent people being slaughtered." Jonno waited until Thomas had exited the room and closed the door behind him before exchanging a smug grin with Dave. "Vladimir Dracula is in Oxford. Looks like we got the right city."

**Chapter 15 teaser**

_'Erin smiled in bemusement as she took the slip of paper.'_


	16. Chapter 15

_**Yayness for reviews! Thank you loads. In response to HyaHya's question (which was excellent not silly at all) a medium is traditionally someone who can communicate with the dead/ghosts. In my version mediums may also have other supernatural abilities such as reading auras (like Charlie). I'm hoping to use Charlie's abilities later in the story. **_

_**I know that this chapter will not be to everyone's tastes but I wanted to show how even the most loving of relationships can tear themselves apart when things go wrong. For anyone who wants to know more about the Vlerin backstory in this fic then please feel free to check out my one-shots 'Temptation' which explores more how Vlad ended up doing what he did to Erin and 'Comfort' the immediate aftermath of their break up.  
**_

_**Thanks for reading.**_

_** xo**_

**_ps: We will definitely be seeing some evil Vlad in just a couple of chapters._ **

** Chapter 15**

There were many occasions upon which Vlad heartily wished he could see his own reflection. Getting dressed for a meeting with his ex-girlfriend was definitely one. Vlad sighed as he stared into the blank mirror and smoothed a non-existent crease out of his cape.

Dmitri knocked quietly on his room door before entering. "Are you ready Your Highness?" Dmitri was already dressed in his cape. He stood upright with his hands folded behind his back in a military pose. Centuries later, he still hadn't forgotten his training from the Russian army.

Vlad cast another longing look at the mirror. He wanted to ask Dmitri if his appearance was acceptable but his pride wouldn't let him. It was bad enough that Dmitri had insisted on accompanying him on this venture. He didn't want Dmitri to know his personal history with Erin. "Yes." His answer was abrupt and without further exchange of words they both transformed into bats and departed through the half open window.

* * *

The moonlight shone brightly into the clearing in the forest. The ghostly light touched the dying leaves and grass turning them into shades of silver. Erin leant against a tree and waited patiently for Vlad to arrive. She turned the collar of her jacket up against the slightly cold breeze and dug her hands deeper into her pockets. A mixture of apprehension and excitement bubbled in her tummy at the prospect of seeing Vlad. Their last meeting had been acrimonious to say the least.

A flicker of movement in the shadows caused her to turn her head sharply to her left. "Vlad?" she whispered.

A tall vampire emerged from the shadows and stood at the edge of the clearing. His face was impassive. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Erin." Vlad's voice came from behind her and Erin spun around to face her ex-boyfriend. Vlad was dressed in a similar fashion to the first time that she had seen him. His leather jacket was zipped and buttoned up to his neck. His long black cape swept the forest floor. In the moonlight Vlad's face was even whiter than usual. His blue eyes glittered dark against the paleness of his skin. The shadows under his eyes seemed less pronounced than usual. She couldn't be certain but it looked like he had filled out some more under his cape as his slim frame appeared to show more muscle than before. Her heart half twisted half jumped at the sight of his face which had once been so familiar to her. It was probably impossible but he seemed to have grown even more handsome since she had last seen him. Yet the Vlad before her was different. He held himself more formally. His face was carefully blank, a composed mask hinting at no emotion or recognition of what she had now become.

Erin stood frozen to the spot as she gazed at him. Unsure whether to rush forward and hug him like she used to in the past or to copy his current formality. "Vlad!" She smiled brightly at him in an attempt to convey her happiness at seeing him but it felt both like too much and too little.

"You have information?" Vlad's voice was cool. He didn't return her smile and he avoided making eye contact.

Erin hesitated, slightly put off by his cold demeanour. "Is it safe to speak?" She made a pointed gesture to Dmitri with her head.

Vlad nodded. "The area has been searched. You can speak freely."

Erin spoke quietly but with great urgency. "The Guild is lying about the ceasefire. They are planning to send you decoy slayers in respect of the atrocities committed. A number of the top slayers were called to a meeting at the Guild headquarters in Germany. They are being posted to different locations across the world. They are searching for something or someone. I was involved in the raid on Arad." At this point, Erin took a deep breath to calm herself down. She didn't think she would ever get over the sight of Dave plunging that stake into the vampire child's heart. After a couple of seconds she was able to continue. "I know that something special was taken from the fortress and delivered to the Guild's best translators in Germany. I'm afraid that's all I know at the moment. I wasn't able to find out the locations."

Vlad's face was a picture of grim resignation. "I thought the Guild's ceasefire was insincere. What about you? Are you safe?" he asked with concern in his voice.

Erin nodded. "As safe as you can be when you are a slayer," she said wryly. "I have been decommissioned and resettled. I'm in Nottingham now. As far I know my new identity hasn't been compromised."

"Good." Vlad reached into his pocket and pulled out a ragged piece of paper. "Here's my phone number. It should be easier to contact me than posting a letter."

Erin smiled in bemusement as she took the slip of paper. "You have a mobile phone?" she teased him gently. "Have vampires given up on telepathy?"

Vlad's cold mask cracked slightly as he smiled for the first time since his arrival in the forest. "It was Robin actually. He nagged me into it. Pointed out telepathy doesn't work particularly well with breathers."

"Robin?" Erin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Robin Branagh?"

Vlad's smile widened. "Yes. It turns out that he is living in the same city as me."

Erin shook her head disbelievingly. "Don't you think that's a bit suspicious? Now during all this turmoil and at this crucial stage your old best friend suddenly appears?" She regretted her words as Vlad's smile faded to be replaced with a scowl.

"Not everyone befriends me with the intention of killing my family." Vlad stepped back from her.

Erin sighed in exasperation. "OK Vlad I'm just worried about you." She was aware of the note of pleading that entered her voice. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Yes, after all I think I've been betrayed by enough people by now." Vlad was deliberately not looking at her now. His voice was verging on petulant.

Erin stepped into his line of vision. As he moved his head to look away she reached up and cupped the side of his face. She shivered slightly from the coldness of his skin. "I never betrayed you," she whispered softly. "Why would I put myself in danger doing something I hate unless I still believed in you. Unless I still cared." For the first time that evening Vlad made eye contact with her. His beautifully expressive eyes gazed deep into hers. Erin felt her stomach do somersaults. Thank goodness she was using the stasis spray so he couldn't sense how much faster he made her heart beat. His cold hand covered hers. "I've turned into a killer for you. I spied for you and I had to do some terrible things to keep my cover. I did it all in the hope that ... that there was still..."

Vlad looked guilty. "I'm sorry Erin," he said quietly. "I asked too much of you and yet you fulfilled all my expectations." His fingers stroked her hand gently, almost sensuously. "I know I should have forgiven you by now..."

Sudden rage exploded in Erin and before she could help herself she pulled away from him. "You forgive me?" she asked incredulously. "You were the one who cheated!"

Vlad shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. He snapped his fingers at the other vampire who disappeared from sight. "Not this again," he said with a warning note in his voice. "It's not cheating if we don't have a real relationship!"

Erin placed her hands on her hips and stared aggressively at him. "I was your girlfriend!" She tried to hold back the hot tears that were threatening to break free. "Perhaps you should have told me that our relationship wasn't 'real' enough before you jumped into another woman's coffin!"

Vlad exhaled a deep breath and rubbed his forehead in a gesture of tiredness. "I didn't have to. How could you not have known? You wouldn't even let me touch you! You wouldn't talk about it. How long was I supposed to wait?" he demanded. "For garlic's sake Erin we barely even kissed. You kept thinking I was going to bite you."

"It still doesn't excuse you sleeping with that parasite!" Erin shouted, clenching her hands into fists even as the first tears crept down her face.

Vlad looked away from her. "Well we both know the only reason she slept with me was because I was the Chosen One."

Erin gasped at the bitterness in his words. "Vlad!" Her head felt like it was spinning as she recalled the furious argument they had after she had found out that he had been cheating on her with a vampire called Esmeralda. She had been almost hysterical with heartache at the time and had only a vague recollection of screaming at him that the only reason Esmeralda wanted to have sex with him, the only reason why any female vampire would want to have sex with him, was because he was the Chosen One. Over a year later and he was throwing those words back in her face. She hadn't realised how deeply her words had wounded him. That even now they were still hurting him. "Oh Vlad!" She clasped her hands to her mouth in horror as she tried to control the tears that were streaming down her face. "I only said that to hurt you. I never meant it!"

Vlad gave her a dark look. "Well you achieved your original aim."

"I was devastated! I thought I loved you and I had just found out you cheated," Erin tried desperately to explain. "You have to..."

"Please!" Vlad interrupted his voice harsher and deeper than usual. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. We have been over this so many times. We can't change the past no matter how much we want to." He pulled his cape tighter around himself as if he was getting ready to fly off.

Impulsively Erin threw herself against him in a tight embrace slipping her arms around his waist. His body felt harder and more muscled against her. Despite the coldness radiating from him, Erin felt a frisson of sexual attraction as hesitantly he placed his arms around her and hugged her back. She looked up into his eyes. Her heartbeat was racing at how gorgeous he was in the moonlight. "We could change the present?" she whispered pressing herself against him in a more provocative manner.

Vlad sharply inhaled a breath. "Don't make me an offer if you don't mean it." His voice was slightly shaky as he slid his hands up over her shoulders to cup her face.

Erin gazed meaningfully into his eyes. "I mean it," she promised.

Vlad dipped his head and brushed his lips lightly against hers. His lips were cold at first, his mouth gentle and Erin's hands clutched at his back as his kisses made her feel dizzy. Slowly Vlad's mouth became harder and more demanding. One hand crept into her hair as another caressed her neck. Erin felt the old familiar sensation of panic beginning to rise slowly from the pit of her stomach. She fought to stay in control and remind herself that this was Vlad. Caressing her neck was a sign of affection, not an indication that he was getting ready to bite her. As Vlad deepened his kisses and his tongue began to delicately spar with hers, Erin couldn't but moan in pleasure. Vlad was an exquisite kisser. It felt like she was turning into liquid in his arms. Erotic sensations swept over her body with just a flick of his tongue. At the same time, her mind was racing with images of vampires biting and blood gushing. She was frantically trying to control her fears but she could sense the terror building up inside her. Vlad's mouth left hers and he rained soft teasing kisses along her jaw moving towards her throat. "No!" She pushed him away with all her strength and defensively covered her throat with her hands before she was even aware of her actions.

Horrified by what she had just done, Erin stared at Vlad unable to speak a word. There was a terrible silence between them. For a brief second, she saw pain flicker in Vlad's eyes before his mask fell into place. His features assumed a cold haughty expression and his eyes became carefully blank. "You have my number if you need to contact me. Thank you for your service." His voice was emotionless.

The coldness of his words struck Erin like a physical blow but before she was able to respond he rapidly transformed into a bat and flitted away leaving her alone in the forest. Erin's hands slowly slipped from her neck and she began to sob.

* * *

The world was shrouded in a red mist of rage and pain. Vlad flew blindly not sure of where he was going or where he wanted to be. He wanted so many conflicting things all at once. To run to his father. To fly back to Erin. To bite someone and feel their blood trickle down his throat. The self loathing was corrosive. He was a vampire and that was all he could ever be. What was the point in pretending otherwise? Why constantly fight the darkness within when it would be so much easier to give in? Perhaps he should do what everyone expected him to do and give into the bloodlust. It would be so much easier for him to drink blood until his thirst was sated, bring the world to its knees before him and dominate the vampires with pain and death.

Vlad touched down gracefully in Fountain Quad of Winterville College. Without realising it, he had sought out the comfort of Scarlett and Robin. He looked around him for a moment and had a second realisation – he had lost Dmitri. He had forgotten that his flying ability and speed was greater than the average vampire. Vlad stood in the Fountain Quad, it was damp in Oxford. A soft mizzle of rain was covering his face with film of moisture.

The sound of laughter reached him from the common room. Bright yellow light shone from the square cut windows. Vlad stepped forward and observed the scene within. Robin, Charlie and Scarlett were sitting with a group of friends. Pizza and various other takeaway boxes were scattered around them. A few bottles of wine had been opened. Robin lay on one of the sofas with his head resting on a cushion on Charlie's lap. She was stroking his hair and murmuring something to him that was making him smile. Scarlett was sitting on arm of one of the sofas. She was wearing a blue-purple dress that shimmered and changed colour with every movement. She was laughing at the stories of one of the other students. It was a scene typical of most students hanging out together.

Vlad shook his head trying to shake off the sensation of still being surrounded by a red mist. His heart felt heavy with pain. This was how it would always be- he was a stranger, an outsider looking in and intruding on other people's happy normal lives. The past couple of weeks were a mirage, a dangerous fantasy. Robin had done it again. He had swept Vlad into his life completely accepting and even cherishing Vlad's differences. All three of them, Robin, Scarlett and Charlie completely welcomed Vlad into their lives and wouldn't take no for an answer. Trips to pub with Robin to drink cider and eat roasted chestnuts. Formal dinners in the Grand Hall of the college. Evenings spent hanging out in the common room bickering over whose turn it was to make tea. With every evening Vlad felt more and more like an ordinary breather. The others in the social group accepted his presence with a mixture of warmth and reserve depending on whether they listened to college gossip but overall no one had denounced him as one of the immortal undead. The only drawback to spending more time away from the library and with Robin was that he had made very little progress with Scarlett.

Not that it mattered anymore. If Scarlett found out what he was then any chance of a relationship would be gone. Erin was proof of that. This was where he truly belonged, out in the darkness and cold, hiding from the light and warmth because he was a monster. Vlad turned away from the common room and began trudging towards the college gates.

"Vladimir Count! Where do you think you are sneaking off to?" Scarlett's lilting voice rang out across the quad.

Within the blink of an eye, Vlad had ripped off his cape and bundled it under his arm. Nothing screamed vampire quite like a leather cape. Well actually fangs and spontaneous combustion in sunlight were also quite good clues but right now his cape was the biggest giveaway. He turned to the direction of Scarlett's voice. She stood in the doorway of the common room, her figure surrounded by the mellow gold of the entrance light. She ran barefoot lightly across the quad to reach him. Her smile was painful to observe. It reminded him too much of the brightness of Erin's smile. A brightness which had turned out to be false. Vlad tried to dredge up the strength to at least fake a smile but he couldn't. He just gazed at Scarlett in despondency.

"Vlad," Scarlett whispered his name like a caress. "What's up?" She reached out and touched his arm. As usual Vlad felt the heat of her touch burn though him. Even in his current state of depression, the electricity of attraction jolted through him. He gazed at her hand uncomprehendingly. How could she stand to touch him? He knew Erin had shivered at his coldness.

"Vladimir," the concern was growing in Scarlett's voice. She tilted his face up gently. He met her eyes. Brilliant blue framed by long dark lashes. His face felt strangely wet as ice cold tears trickled down his cheeks. "Oh my darling." Scarlett reached up and placed her arms around his neck drawing him closer to her in a comforting hug. Vlad buried his face in the warmth of her shoulder. He clung to her tightly, her warm softness soothing the raging pain inside him. He was highly aware of the frenetic beat of her heart, of her warm breath against his neck, of her fragile humanity. Slowly the red mist began to seep away, he felt like the heavy weight in his chest was lightening. He tightened his arms around Scarlett and nuzzled his face against her shoulder. Scarlett's only response was hold him closer. Vlad was beginning to understand why people said a hug made you feel better. There hadn't been much hugs or cuddling in his life. After the pain and anger began to recede, Vlad became acutely aware that he was very tightly pressed against Scarlett and that his body was enjoying the embrace slightly too much. Perhaps he should have pulled away and made a hasty exit but the pain of Erin's rejection was still vivid in his mind. The darkness within was urging him on. Vlad knew he should resist temptation but instead he began to softly press his mouth against Scarlett's shoulder. He trailed a line of firm but gentle kisses across her shoulder pushing the material of her dress away so that his lips could have access to her bare skin. One hand slid up to support Scarlett's neck and his other hand slid down to her waist where he roughly pulled her even tighter against his lower body so that she could be in no doubt as to the effect she was having on him. He was vividly aware of every detail of her response to him because of the wariness instilled in him by Erin's fears. He noted with intense pleasure the tiny gasp that escaped from her mouth at his action and how she willingly pressed harder against him. Emboldened, Vlad began to kiss her throat. He could feel her pulse, the throb of her blood beneath his lips and yet there was absolutely no bloodlust. He wasn't tempted in the slightest to sink his fangs into her throat. Scarlett sighed deeply as he kissed her throat harder and tilted her head back to give him greater access. A stab of relief so intense that it hurt penetrated Vlad's heart. Scarlett couldn't possibly know that this one tiny movement meant the world to him. A signal that she instinctively trusted him. He pressed gentle further kisses along her jaw and then drew back to gaze upon her beautiful face. Scarlett gazed back at him, her lips dreamily half parted and her eyes darkly seductive.

Vlad had been vaguely aware of some background noise but up until this moment he had been lost in the experience of kissing Scarlett and devoting all his attention to monitoring her reactions. Now the catcalls and jeers finally penetrated the dreamlike state that they had both been in. Reluctantly Vlad loosened his grip on Scarlett. "Are you ok?" His voice was embarrassingly hoarse.

Scarlett nodded breathlessly. She was still holding onto his shoulders tightly as if she was trying to keep her balance. Vlad was in no hurry for her to let go. The catcalls and wolf whistles continued. Vlad glanced over his shoulder at the source of this unwanted attention and recognised some of his drinking buddies. He glared at them intently and most of them took the hint and ambled on. He turned his attention back to Scarlett who was blushing furiously. Vlad felt his conscience stir at the sight of the pinkness which stained her cheeks. It felt like he had taken advantage of her kindness in comforting him.

"Kettle's on!" Charlie's voice broke the awkward silence between them. He glanced in the direction of the common room where Charlie stood lounging against the door with a couple of mugs in her hand. Charlie's eyes narrowed at the sight of Scarlett's bare feet. "Oh for goodness sake Scarlett! Are you barefoot? It's October! Get inside now!" With a disapproving shake of her head, Charlie disappeared from the doorway.

Scarlett tried to stifle a sneaky giggle and they exchanged conspiratorial smiles. Without thinking Vlad grabbed her hand as they sprinted across the quad to join the rest of the gang in the warmth and light.

**Chapter 16 teaser**

_'She told me I could achieve anything I dreamt of and I dreamt of Oxford.'_


	17. Chapter 16

_**Aw Charchisto I'm super happy that you be like NOOOOO if I broke up Scarlett and Vlad but I should add at this point they aren't together. Not that it will or won't happen...  
**_

_**Thanks so much for reading and extra special thanks if you review. Hope you enjoy it! xo**_

**Chapter 16**

The flames of nearly a hundred candles flickered as the heavy oak doors to the throne room were flung open. The wind howled as it swept into the room bringing with it the newly titled Countess Dracula. Surrounded by glittering smoke, Ingrid appeared to float above the ground. She finally stopped in the centre of the medieval hall. Placing a gloved hand on her hip, she gave the Count a sinister smile. "Hello Daddy dearest."

"Shut those doors immediately!" The Count roared. He hastily leapt to his feet at the sight of his much loathed first child. "What are you doing here?"

Ingrid causally glanced around the hall which was full of scurrying servants arranging tapestries, candles and cobwebs. "How wonderful," she drawled with a spiteful glint in her icy blue eyes. "It appears I have arrived just in time for the Halloween Ball."

The Count's eyes blazed scarlet red with impotent fury.

* * *

_The thick dusty air was choking her lungs. The arid dryness was a dark contrast to the moistness of the soil between her bare feet. Looking down, she saw that her feet were stained with red as rivers of blood gushed across the land. Her companions were chanting Aramaic under their breath. The heavy reassuring scent of incense surrounded her. It muted the horror of the red and black landscape. Ahead she could see the vampires. They had cast aside the bodies of their victims and were now watching her advance with something close to fear in their black eyes. She could feel the warmth of the sun behind her back and the cold of the night upon her face. The leader of the vampires rose from his half crouching position with deadly grace. His black eyes were full of hatred, his fangs extended, blood was smeared across his face and his robes were blood stained. But it was different this time. This was not the usual leader of the vampires. Scarlett began to scream hysterically as she gazed into the face of Vladimir Count. Then the white fire surrounded her burning every thought but pain out of her mind._

Scarlett woke up screaming. Her heart pounding and drenched with sweat, she gasped for air as she sat upright in bed. She focused on breathing deeply in and out in an effort to calm herself down. She kicked off her duvet and examined her limbs half expecting to see bloodstains on her feet and burns on her hands. She allowed herself a shaky laugh at her paranoia. Laying back in her bed, she focused her gaze on the rainbows which danced around her room. Breathe in. It's just a dream. And out. You have been working too hard. Breathe in. All this vampire mythology is getting to you. And out. Completely natural to be dreaming about Vlad. Especially after last night. The way he kisses... Oops breathe in!

After a few minutes of slow careful breathing exercises, her heart rate had returned to normal. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep anymore, Scarlett climbed out of bed. On her way to the bathroom, she flicked the switch on the kettle. Some tea would steady her nerves. Splashing cold water onto her face, Scarlett paused and gazed down at her trembling hands. How was it possible that her childhood nightmare was recorded thousands of years ago on the Bathius Blood papers?

* * *

The bright sunlight flooded into the room temporarily blinding Professor Teverson. She raised her hand up to cover her eyes as Father James methodically opened the curtains and then the windows.

"Good grief Professor Teverson! You need to get some sunlight and fresh air!" he scolded her in the same fashion one would tell off an errant child.

Professor Teverson leant forward and rested her head upon her folded arms. "It's for my own safety." She knew her muffled voice sounded childish but right now she was really too tired to care. She had barely slept this past week due to a combination of field work and paper research.

Father James remained standing at the windows. "It's a beautiful autumn day. The Chosen One may be exceptionally powerful but even he can't daywalk."

"He probably has humans to do his bidding during daylight hours," Professor Teverson remarked sourly.

Father James fixed her with a look of concern. "Do you still have the Argentulium spray?"

Professor Teverson hoisted herself up onto her elbows. She nodded wearily. "Father James, why are you here? I have nothing new to report to you. The site is in the process of being carefully excavated. These things don't just happen overnight." Her resentment was beginning to bubble over.

"You should have found it by now. It's not something which is easily mistaken for a rock or piece of pottery." Father James turned his back on her to stare out of the window at the archaeologists working on the Fountain Quad.

"Don't worry; I checked the records for details of the last repair job on the fountain. There was nothing to indicate that the source was inadvertently unearthed." Professor Teverson placed her head in her hands again. Her vision was getting blurry at the edges. A sure sign another one of her migraines was on its way.

"What?"

The fury in Father James' voice made her lift her head too quickly and she winced as the sudden movement caused a lightning strike of pain at the back of her skull. "The fountain was severely damaged by vandals in the late 90s. The repair job was rather extensive." Her headache became a temporary memory as she watched as all the colour rapidly drain from the priest's face.

* * *

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Robin leapt out of the coffin and bared his fangs.

Vlad walked past him barely bothering to glance up from the array of papers in his hands.

"This is awesome!" Robin dramatically swished his new vampire cape around his figure and posed in front of the mirror. He ran his hands over the supple leather before striking a pose.

Vlad set his papers down on the bedside cabinet. "Aren't you bored with admiring yourself in the mirror yet?" He rolled his eyes in exaggerated disdain but secretly he was thrilled at Robin's reaction to his gift.

"Never!" Robin assumed an attack position and admired his fangs. "At least not when I look this cool!" He turned to Vlad with an excited grin. "I'm telling you Vlad, we are going to rock this Halloween. It's going to the best Halloween ever!"

Vlad sat on the edge of his coffin. "Robin I'm not going to be here for Halloween. I've told you before."

Robin pulled a face. "Yeah, yeah, Real vampire ball, blah blah, Chosen One, blah blah duties, blah blah!" Robin extracted his fake fangs. "But you are going to be here for the college Halloween party so I'll forgive my lack of invite to the real Halloween celebrations."

"I promise Robin you are not missing out. Lots of vampires turning up to gawk at Chosen One. The clans plotting against me in the corners or worse sucking up to me. Dad and Ingrid will be at each other's throats. Official occasions always bring the worst out in them," Vlad said gloomily.

"Vlad, you can be such a misery guts." Robin sat on the edge of the coffin beside him and elbowed him affectionately in the side. "All that hero worship and general adoration must be so difficult to cope with."

"Oh flap off!" Vlad chuckled good-naturedly.

"At least tell the Count and Ingrid I said hi. It would have been nice to see them again," Robin said wistfully.

Vlad gave Robin a deeply sceptical look. "Robin you have slayers' blood now. In Dad's opinion you have gone from being a snack to a delicacy." Slayers' blood had always been the Count's favourite food.

Robin's face was perfectly deadpan as he replied. "You have to admit, it's still advancement up the food chain."

* * *

The voices soared high filling the church with their beauty and purity. As one chorus faded away another would ascend to take its place. Latin was a beautiful language never more so than when it was sung. Among the usual magnificent voices of the choir was the prodigal daughter Scarlett. The unearthly exquisiteness of her voice reached beyond the gallery to echo throughout the church. Father James observed how the visitors to the church found themselves taking a seat, how tourists who popped in for a photograph stood frozen at edges of the church and how even the youngest of children hushed as the final notes were sung. There was a long moment between the end of the song and the start of the day to day noise of a busy church which also served as a tourist destination. Father James remained seated as the choir filed out of the gallery, as the cameras of tourists began to flash and as conversations resumed around him. He was patiently waiting for Scarlett to reappear.

As expected, his niece stepped into the lower echelons of the church. Still dressed in her academic robes, she walked towards the candles. He had noted with great sadness how on her every visit to the church, she still lit two candles in prayer for her parents. It was a quiet act of faith. After murmuring the final word of her prayers, Scarlett began to walk down the aisle.

"Child, would you sit with me a moment?" Father James patted the pew beside him.

Scarlett appeared slightly startled by his request but nonetheless she politely sat down. "How are you Father?" she enquired.

"All the better for hearing your voice in our choir again." Father James held up the programme for the All Hallows Eve service. "I understand you are performing at this?"

A modest blush stained Scarlett's cheeks. "Yes, it was Father Benedict who persuaded me."

Father James smiled at the mention of Father Benedict. The priest in charge of the choir must have been delighted to get his one of his best choir members back. "It's just a question I have been asking a couple of the students." Father James fixed his penetrating gaze upon Scarlett. "I have always wondered what made you choose Oxford?"

Scarlett looked confused for a second. "Surely Father you mean what made Oxford choose me?" she replied. "After all thousands apply every year and only a couple of us get in."

Father James shook his head. "But before they could select you, you had to make the decision to apply." He spread his hands in a questioning gesture. "I'm curious about the different motivations students have when making that decision."

Scarlett was quiet as she thought deeply about his question. "Well, I suppose there are the usual reasons. It's one of the best universities in the world. Brilliant libraries. Beautiful city. The prestige." She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I sound like a brochure. All that work for the access department has gotten to me! But for me it was more than that. My Dad used to come here alot because of his work. He took us once. I remember thinking that this was the most beautiful city in the world. It felt like history was alive in the cobbles and in the buildings. Mam made me promise that I would come back. She told me I could achieve anything I dreamt of and I dreamt of Oxford." Scarlett's voice choked slightly at the memories. "Please excuse me Father!" She rubbed furiously at a lone tear threatening to drop from her eye before recovering her usual composure.

Father James handed her a paper tissue. "And your choice of college? Winterville?" He tried to make his voice gentle so that he would not betray his eagerness for the answer.

Scarlett looked into the distance for a moment. "I don't know. It just felt like the right college." She twisted the tissue in her hands an unconscious signal that she was distressed by the conversation. "I think we visited it. It felt like a castle from a fairytale. I definitely remember the fountain with its dolphins." She discarded the shredded tissue into her bag and stood up. "I should really be going."

"Humour me with one more question." Father James struggled to keep his voice neutral. "When was your visit to Oxford?"

Scarlett grimaced slightly with annoyance. "Father, I don't like to talk about my parents. You know that." Her voice was firm. Pointedly she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder.

Father James maintained his calm smile. "As I said, just humour me."

Scarlett sighed with frustration at his persistence. "I don't know. It wasn't long before... I think I was about nine. Sorry Father but I really have to go now. I have a lot of studying to do."

His heart heavy with regret, Father James watched as the young woman walked away. He understood what she had meant when she said the words _It wasn't long before... _She was referring to her parents' death.

* * *

The fireball glowed with shades of deep orange and red, it's exterior flashed with escaping sparks and heat as Vlad nonchalantly tossed it from one hand to another.

"And it doesn't hurt? At all?" Robin watched in fascination.

"No." Vlad threw the fireball up into the air and blew gently. It cooled and shattered almost instantly covering the cellar floor with a dusty layer of fine white ash. Vlad gazed down at his unblemished hands. "It used to tickle."

Robin lifted a sword and then dropped it in surprise at the weight. "Wow, who would have thought? Knights must have been really strong. Why practise sword fighting anyway?" He ran his finger lightly along the blade. "Ow!" The razor sharp blade sliced through the top layer of his skin causing a brilliantly red drop of blood to form. Robin hastily sucked his finger and gave Vlad a wary look. "Sorry!"

His best friend's eyes flickered black for a second before turning to their usual blue as a look of nausea passed over his face. "No need to apologise. It's only a little cut. Are you ok? Roberts can get you a plaster."

Robin examined his finger. The blood was gone now. "I think it's ok. No need to fuss."

"Precisely." Vlad was suddenly by Robin's side. It was unnerving how fast his friend could move now he was a vampire. Vlad cast a courteous glance over Robin's injury. "To answer your question, sword fighting is still an honourable tradition amongst vampires. It's one of Dad's preferred ways of killing. Some slayers are surprisingly old fashioned and still agree to a duel by sword." Vlad lifted the sword with ease and slid it into its accompanying sheath where the blade was safely covered.

If Robin had cut himself in front of Vlad's Dad, he would be fighting for his life right now. Vlad's calm self control was a powerful contrast to the excitability and impulsivity of the Count. "Aren't you even tempted to bite me?" Robin's curiosity got the better of him.

Vlad winced at his question. "Yes, of course," he answered shortly. "I'm always tempted. I just don't give in. I am in control."

Robin took the hint and changed the subject. "All of this is so cool!" He gestured around the cellar. "I'm glad I took the stupid truth serum now otherwise I wouldn't have seen all this." He gave a Vlad a slightly resentful look. Vlad had been completely unapologetic about testing Robin with the truth serum. It still rankled that his old best friend hadn't trusted him but given everything that had happened to Vlad in the past Robin could understand Vlad's position. In any case, he had nothing to hide and if drinking a stupid potion and answering some questions was all it took to regain his best friend then it was no biggie in the grand scheme of things.

"I'm glad too."

Robin's eyebrows shot up at this admission from Vlad. "Nah, it's cool mate. Really." Robin glanced at his watch. "It's nearly seven. Let's get some dinner before we get into our costumes. With proper vampire clothes, we should annihilate the competition for the fancy dress prizes." Robin rubbed his hands together with glee.

"I thought we were meant to be meeting the girls at eight." Vlad frowned at his watch. It had taken much longer to show Robin around the cellar than expected. They really should have eaten by now but Robin had begged for a demonstration of Vlad's powers. "Won't we be late?"

Robin sniggered and slapped Vlad on the back. "For a player, you really don't know much about girls." Robin began to climb up the steps. "Trust me, at five to eight I'm going to get a text from Charlie or Scarlett saying they are running late."

* * *

Dave slurped his coffee and shuffled through the papers on Jonno's desk. "They didn't warn me that you were a bookworm." He threw down a folder containing Oxford's mortality rates. "What good is this doing? We should be patrolling the streets. That would be more useful than reading," Dave scowled at the cover of the consultation paper in Jonno's hands. "Royal Society of History - Research Applicants?"

Jonno barely gave him a glance. "They didn't warn me that you were a military Neanderthal." He sat back in his chair and chewed his pen thoughtfully as he flicked through the paper.

"If we patrol the streets we have more chance of catching the Chosen One. We could take him out. Don't deny that it isn't what you want" Dave folded his muscular arms smugly across his chest.

Jonno took the pen out of his mouth. "Does that sentence even make sense?" He resumed chewing on his pen. "Trust me slaying Dracula is alot harder than you think. Beside it's not just about him. We are supposed to locate the source."

"Well we are going to need more than positive identification of Dracula and some vague nonsense about vampires being chased out of Oxford by Bloody Mary." Disgruntled Dave returned to his seat and flipped open the lid of his laptop.

"I get it. You're action sort of guy. You think this stuff is boring." Jonno pushed the pages across the desk to Dave. "But read this."

Dave gave the papers a fleeting glance. "What? Some academic in an ivory tower wants to research vampires?" he muttered sarcastically.

Jonno groaned irritably. "Read the damn description."

Dave grumbled under his breath but followed Jonno's orders. His eyes widened as he read through the blurb summarising the research proposal. He looked at Jonno with a sudden grin which the younger slayer returned.

"Too much of coincidence?" Jonno said with evident self-satisfaction.

"Yes indeed!" Dave handed the papers back to Jonno. "Well done bookworm. I say we call this Professor Teverson in for some questioning."

**Chapter 16 teaser**

_'You do realise you're not a real vampire.'_


	18. Author's Note

_**Wow, thank you so much to everyone who sent me a message or reviewed. Genuinely touched and overwhelmed by your support and general loveliness. In light of all your amazing messages/reviews I will definitely continue this story. Chapter 17 will be up on Tuesday as usual. Sorry for being a bit of wimpire. **_

_**Thank you all so much.**_

_**xo**_


	19. Chapter 17

_**Thank you to everyone who sent me messages or reviews of support over the weekend. I really appreciated it. This chapter is quite fluffy in my opinion but I wanted it to contrast with the next chapter coming up. Spoilers in my one shot Wonder. Hope you enjoy this! xo**_

** Chapter 17**

"Right, I have just texted Robin to let the boys know we are running late." Charlie set down her phone and stood back to critically appraise her work. "Let's tighten that corset again." She spun Scarlett around and began tugging viciously at the laces.

"Er Charlie, I need to breathe!" Scarlett protested weakly.

Charlie peeped over her friend's shoulder to admire her handiwork in the full length mirror. "Breathing is overrated," she replied flippantly.

Scarlett placed her hands on her new waist and smiled in disbelief at the mirror. "Perhaps you're right."

"I'm always right." Charlie winked. She returned to her task of lacing the corset ever tighter. She had spent ages carefully styling Scarlett's hair so that it softly fell around her in big, loose curls. Her makeup was much heavier than usual; the dramatic shades of black and silver making her eyes appear smoky and mysterious. A hint of lip gloss over her usual red lipstick created the suggestion of a pout. The corset was black satin with red lace detail. It exaggerated the shape of Scarlett's hourglass figure, making her waist appear much smaller and enlarging her bust. The floor length black satin skirt had identical red lace detail at the bottom. A vibrant red cape finished the ensemble. Scarlett had originally planned to go as a witch but Charlie had talked her into the vampire costume which was a) sexier and b) yet another hint to Vlad that he should tell the truth.

Scarlett giggled nervously. "Don't you think this is misleading?" She gestured at the low-cut corset. "I don't think my breasts are meant to look like this."

"If you've got it, flaunt it," Charlie said firmly. "You need to have more confidence in yourself." She gave Scarlett an affectionate hug. "I wish you could see yourself the way others see you. You're gorgeous you silly girl!"

Scarlett gave her friend a dubious look. "I don't think so. Not normally but yeah maybe tonight I'm ok." She did a twirl in front of the mirror admiring how the red cape fluttered around her frame. "I love the cape! You know how much I love capes. Why did we ever create coats when capes are so much cooler?" She looked up at Charlie her eyes bright with hope. "Do you think he will like it?"

Charlie lifted her glass of wine and sipped it. "The secret to appearing sexy and beautiful is confidence. Remember that and Vlad will not be able to resist you. Er actually..." She nudged the pizza box towards her friend. "You haven't eaten anything yet. Fancy some garlic bread?"

* * *

Unlike most Oxford colleges, Winterville had the luxury of two dining halls. The newest was the Grand Hall built in the Stuart era and it was the college's main hall for dining and entertainment purposes. The older, smaller and darker dining hall was known as the Medieval Hall. It was mostly used for large college events like the Halloween party and the college balls. The students had gone all out with the Halloween theme. Cobwebs trailed across the oak rafters of the Medieval Hall, orange and black crepe wrappers swirled around the stone columns. The trestle tables had been pushed to the sides of the hall and covered with carpet so that students could dance upon them. A bar had been set up at one end of the hall serving dubious concoctions such as Witch's Brew. Vlad and Robin were standing by the empty fireplace sipping their drinks waiting for Charlie and Scarlett to arrive. It felt strange to be dressed in his vampire attire in the breather world. Stranger still that no-one seemed to be bothered by it. In fact he had already received some compliments for his 'costume'.

"I hate it when they use the plastic candles. They are so obviously fake. I remember how Renfield used to check the castle's candles for dribbles," Robin said with a wistful note in his voice.

"Drunken students and naked flames doesn't seem like a good mix to me," Vlad commented dryly.

"Uh oh, here come Ian and Paul mark two," Robin muttered under his breath as Tom and Adam approached them. "You know they want only to hang out with us because we are such lady killers. Frankly I feel exploited."

Vlad struggled to keep a straight face at Robin's sarky comments. He lifted his head in a polite greeting to the two men.

"Hey Count, haven't seen you in a while!" Adam exclaimed with false joviality. "Nice costume! You went to a lot of effort." Adam looked down at his plastic cape with sudden resentment. It looked undeniably cheap and shoddy compared to Vlad's finery. Adam muscled in between Vlad and Robin. He stunk of stale beer and cigarettes. Unsubtly, he turned his back to Robin and focused his attention on Vlad. "So any action with the ladies tonight?"

Robin made a choking noise which sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh.

Vlad gulped down the rest of his coke and vodka in an attempt to stop himself from following Robin's example. "No."

His abrupt answer seemed to irritate Adam. The slightly taller man tried to lean over him in an intimidating manner. "You must be losing your touch." A taunting note entered Adam's voice. "I mean how long have you been chasing Scarlett? Still haven't got a fu..."

"Shut it!" Robin said fiercely. He shoved Adam in the back. "Don't talk about my friend like that."

Adam turned slowly to glare at Robin. "Watch it freak!" His words were slurring slightly. "Losing my touch, am I?" Vlad laughed arrogantly. He snapped his fingers at a group of female students who were giggling in the corner. The girls began to sashay over to them. Vlad gave Adam a profoundly self-satisfied smirk.

"How do you do it?" Tom shook his head in disbelief as the girls approached them.

"Yeah, it's like he's hypnotic or something," said Robin, his voice laden with sarcasm. "Come on Vlad, let's get another drink." Robin grabbed Vlad's arm and began tugging him towards the bar. Once they were out of earshot from Adam and Tom, Robin asked the same question. "So how do you do it?" Robin snapped his fingers and looked around with mock hopefulness.

Vlad shrugged dispassionately. "The famous Dracula charm? I don't know but I have to admit it's quite the power trip. Especially after being ignored through most of school." Vlad beckoned to the bartender who came over to them immediately.

"Careful Vlad, you almost sound bitter." Robin gave a long low wolf whistle as Charlie and Scarlett entered the Medieval Hall.

Vlad turned his head to say hello but found himself lost for words at the sight of Scarlett dressed up as a vampire. He tried to stop his jaw from dropping as his eyes roved over the low cut corset. Conflicting emotions rose inside him. Anger at Charlie because he knew this was yet another hint from her to tell Scarlett about his vampirism. Horror at how convincing the vampire costume was. He instinctively hated the thought of Scarlett being turned into a half fang. And yes definitely desire. The darkness in him roared its approval at how incredibly sexy Scarlett looked as a vampire. He became aware of Robin's elbow digging into his side and realised he had just been staring wordlessly at Scarlett. Inwardly he groaned with embarrassment at his ineptitude around the one female who actually mattered. "Drink?" He attempted to recover his composure with a hurried smile as he held out the glass of wine. He caught a glimpse of fleeting disappointment in Scarlett's eyes as she accepted.

A familiar tempo began to play. "GHOSTBUSTERS!" Charlie jumped up and down as the old 80s song blasted out on the sound system to a chorus of cheers and jeers from the crowd. "Yay! Come on guys- let's dance!" Charlie moved determinedly towards the dance floor half dragging Scarlett with her.

Mesmerised by Scarlett's appearance, Vlad moved automatically to follow them but found himself being restrained by Robin who was holding onto his shoulder tightly. "No Vlad, the Chosen One does not dance to Ghostbusters!"

Scarlett turned her head slightly to glance back at him. She held out her hand in a gesture for him to join her. Vlad hastily shook off Robin's grip. "Sorry Robin, I think I do."

* * *

Colours waltzed through the clouds of dried ice which were billowing across the dance floor. The combination of swirling light and smoke had a dream like effect. Vlad decided that he liked breather parties much more than vampire ones. He could actually drink the refreshments, the dancing was much more informal and for once he wasn't the centre of attention. The scent of over a hundred different flavours of blood overwhelmed his senses. If vampires just went to breather clubs they wouldn't even need to bite anyone to get high on blood. The increasing heat of the hall only served to heighten the scent. He pushed his way through the crowd on the way back from the bar with a bottle of champagne. He scowled with displeasure as he observed Adam drunkenly attempt to dance with Scarlett. The third year student had been buzzing around Scarlett like an irritating fly all night. It was clear that she was uncomfortable with his advances but Adam persisted anyway or perhaps he just thought he was so irresistible that eventually Scarlett would give in. Vlad had a similar uncomfortable feeling about Tamara. As part of the group who hung out with Robin, Charlie and Scarlett, Tamara's company was to a certain extent unavoidable. However it made Vlad feel edgy when he caught her watching him with unmistakable malice in her eyes.

Unable to stomach any more of Adam's leers Vlad moved to dance behind Scarlett. As the music vibrated through the floors and walls, he smoothly caught her hands in mid air and slowly glided his hands over her arms and down to her waist where he firmly pulled her against him. "Miss me?" he said into her ear. He pressed his lips against her neck in a possessive gesture. He locked eyes with Adam who was watching them with outrage. With one deft movement, Vlad spun Scarlett around so that she was facing him. "Champagne?" He held up the bottle and Scarlett smiled in delight.

* * *

A combination of alcohol and Scarlett in his arms meant that fire was burning through Vlad. He was deliberately grinding against her unashamed of the effect she was having on his body. After last night, there wasn't much point in pretending that he only wanted her to be his friend. If her response was anything to go by then she felt the same. He couldn't remember why he hadn't made a decisive move before now. He was aware that there had been good reasons. Or at least they seemed good at the time.

"Oh just get a room," Tamara sneered as she shoved past.

"Good idea." Vlad couldn't take his eyes off Scarlett as her red mouth curved into an inviting smile. Keeping his arm around Scarlett's waist, Vlad pushed his way through the crowd until they reached the doorway.

"You do realise you're not a real vampire." Scarlett stumbled against him. She ran a hand up his leather jacket. "Real vampires don't wear leather jackets."

Vlad couldn't hold back his laughter. "Really?" he grinned down at her.

Scarlett giggled tipsily. "Evening dress all the way." She traced the outline of his mouth with her finger. "You don't even have fangs!"

Vlad couldn't help himself, he threw back his head and roared with laughter at the irony.

Scarlett looked slightly put out. "What's so funny?" she demanded. She pushed her hands against his chest in an effort to stand independently.

Vlad refused to relinquish his hold. "Robin has fangs." He nodded in the direction of Robin who was by the bar attempting to drink his weight in vodka by the looks of it. "They are so authentic." Robin's fangs were glowing bright green in the dim light.

"Didn't stop him from winning first prize." Scarlett leant back against Vlad pressing her face against his leather jacket. "I love your aftershave. Mmm sexy." She hit his chest weakly in protest as Vlad began to chuckle. "Stop laughing at me!"

Vlad caught her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "I think someone had a bit too much champagne. Come on, let's get you home." Holding Scarlett, Vlad stepped unsteadily out of the Medieval Hall and into the night air.

Dmitri was by his side almost instantly with a slight swooshing sound. "Your Highness, we should have left by now." He gazed with disapproval at the breather in Vlad's arms.

"I'm walking Scarlett to her room." Vlad spoke slowly with exaggerated care in an effort to avoid slurring his words.

Dmitri's face held a dark look of annoyance. "Are you drunk?"

"No!" Vlad's denial was much too loud.

"You have to fly to Transylvania tonight. We have to be there before dawn. You can't fly in this condition!" Dmitri's voice was several octaves louder than usual.

"Sure he can," Scarlett piped up. "Once he's on the plane he can just sleep it off."

This prompted another roar of laughter from Vlad.

Dmitri's mouth didn't even twitch. "Your Highness, if we do not leave now then I may not be able to accompany you." Dmitri gave Vlad a meaningful look.

Vlad got the message loud and clear. Vlad would be able to fly back to Transylvania before dawn broke without any difficulties but his protector was not as fast as him. If he delayed any further he would be endangering Dmitri. As tiresome as Dmitri was, Vlad felt it would be unfair to incinerate him in the course of his duty.

"I understand. Just give me a couple of minutes." In one fluid motion, Vlad scooped Scarlett up into his arms before striding towards her lodgings.

It felt completely natural for Scarlett to wrap her arms around his neck and snuggle against his chest as he carried her home. The walk to her lodgings was all too brief and when Vlad reached her door he was reluctant to set her down. He did so with the greatest care as if she were something fragile and breakable. The slither of Scarlett's body against his as he set her down made Vlad grit his teeth with frustration. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her delicious scent. If he started kissing her now, it was doubtful that he would ever make it to Transylvania before dawn. His father would be furious. He had the Halloween Ball arrangements to finalise. The Grand Council wanted an emergency meeting to catch up with him. He needed to speak to Ingrid about her progress. There was probably a mountain of paperwork waiting on his desk. Vlad forced himself to step back from the comfort of Scarlett's arms. His earlier sense of euphoria was rapidly dissipating as he remembered all his duties as Grand High Vampire.

Scarlett stroked his black hair off his forehead before gently trailing her hand along the curve of his face. "You look sad," she said softly.

Vlad closed his eyes as he instinctively leant into the warmth of her touch. "I've got to go," he murmured reluctantly. He opened his eyes and gazed at her intently. Her hair was tousled around her shoulders, her lipstick had faded, her red cape was out of place and to Vlad she had never looked sexier. "But when I come back we should do something. Just the two of us."

"We should," Scarlett agreed simply as they exchanged almost shy smiles. She kissed Vlad's cheek tenderly, her lips lingering against the coolness of his skin. "Safe journey," she whispered as she closed the door.

Grinning triumphantly, Vlad wrapped his cape around himself and took flight.

* * *

Hatred, cold and corrosive pulsed through his veins. Rage which had been repeatedly suppressed and denied threatened to overwhelm his senses as he watched his nemesis Vlad Dracula from the shadows. His lip curled in contempt as the vampire swept the young woman into his arms. How very romantic. The difference between Vlad's dark gothic looks and the golden beauty of the woman was striking. How very like his nemesis to find romance whilst he remained alone. Perhaps romance was the wrong word. Love was even more inappropriate given that Vlad was a cold dead creature of the night incapable of feelings. Companionship? Whatever word you used to describe this latest arrangement, however temporary and meaningless, it still meant that he was alone and Vlad was not.

Some things never changed. Some people had a perfect life where they were adored and got everything they wanted no matter what. Some people caused destruction wherever they went and yet came out of the chaos unscathed. Over time the fury had mutated from brash and retaliatory heat to a deep coldness which blazed fiercely. Strangely it felt like the coldness burned brighter than the heat because it hurt more. Watching the couple disappear into the cloisters, the hatred intensified and he vowed once more that he would do whatever it took to destroy Vlad Dracula. Nothing would stand in his way.

**Chapter 17 teaser**

_'Vlad tilted his head slightly as he coolly assessed Ramanga. "You would appreciate some bloodshed?"'_


	20. Chapter 18

_**Thank you for the lovely reviews for Chapter 17 : ) Apologies for updating a day earlier than usual. Tomorrow is a friend's birthday and it's going to be crazy/busy so I thought uploading a day earlier would be better than a day later. Bit nervous about this chapter because I promised evil Vlad so I hope that I don't disappoint! I really hope you enjoy it! xo**_

**Chapter 18**

The quill scratched against the thickness of the parchment as Vlad scrawled his name in blood. With a sigh, he handed the batch of papers to Augustus. He glanced down disapprovingly at the ink pot containing blood. That was another thing he would have to get rid of. Signing death warrants in blood may have seemed poetic to his predecessors but for Vlad it just added to the grotesque nature of the situation.

He looked up to find the rest of the High Council watching him intently. It had been a particularly tense council meeting. Vlad had given them a minimal amount of information regarding his work on the prophecy. The less they knew the better in his opinion. Of course certain elements of the council disagreed strongly.

"Your Highness," it was Ramanga's deep grave voice that broke the silence. "I don't understand why you do not simply declare war on the Guild and breathers. The prophecy may, like the Praedictum Impaver, turn out to be false. In the time that you are taking to search for this mysterious source, we could have been making important progress in combating the slayer threat."

Vlad leant back in his throne chair, his icy gaze swept over each and every member of the council. "War is an admission of failure." His voice was strong and confident as he met Ramanga's angry gaze. "Since you are so keen on battle, I trust that you will be the first to fight on the frontline? The first to place himself at risk of being dusted. Let me make this clear. I will lead vampires to glory. If there is ever a battle, I will be leading the army from the front. However with the right words and strategies, no blood need be spilled."

"Perhaps we want blood to be spilled." Ramanga ground out the words.

There were a few gasps and murmurs at Ramanga's retort. It was well known that Ramanga had been amongst those who plotted against the underage Chosen One. He had made no secret of his desire to be crowned Grand High Vampire. Rumour had it; he had even conspired with Ingrid Dracula to seize the throne. His words were the closest step yet that he had taken to directly challenging the Chosen One's authority.

Vlad tilted his head slightly as he coolly assessed Ramanga. "You would appreciate some bloodshed?" Vlad frowned slightly as he appeared to think deeply for a few minutes. "O'Connell," he addressed one of the clan leaders. "I believe the last challenge to a Grand High Vampire was during your great grandfather's rule."

O'Connell looked defensive. "Yes, but he dealt with it ruthlessly."

Vlad raised his eyebrows questioningly. "How so?"

O'Connell puffed out his chest slightly as he spoke and there was a touch of pride in his voice. "Every rebel was executed in a most brutal fashion. None survived. The perpetuators had their skins flayed before being covered in garlic juice. It would have been a death of excruciating agony." O'Connell smiled happily. "We still have the skins on display in our northern castle."

"Hmm." Vlad's lips twitched in a ghost of a malicious smile as he turned to Ramanga. "Would that spill enough blood?"

Ramanga shuddered in silence.

* * *

Vlad knocked quietly on the ornate oak and gold door. "Enter." Ingrid's voice was laced with bad tempered impatience.

Vlad opened the door and stepped into his sister's chambers. The room was a flurry of activity with various servants helping Ingrid prepare for the ball. His sister sat at her dressing table flicking through a magazine as one handmaid put the finishing touches to her hair. Wolfie, his half brother, was lying on his stomach on a rug in front of the fire. He appeared to be playing with his teddy bear.

"What?" Ingrid snapped as she threw down her magazine. "Can't you see I'm busy getting ready for the ball? If you hadn't let that meeting drag on, I wouldn't have to rush."

Vlad clicked his fingers at the surrounding entourage. "Out," he commanded. All but Wolfie obeyed. His younger sibling remained on the rug seemingly oblivious to the noise and bustle around him. "That means you too Wolfie."

Wolfie gave Vlad a plaintive look. "But I want to stay with Ingrid," he pouted.

Vlad's eyes narrowed.

The little boy hastily got up and ran towards the door with his teddy.

Vlad shut the door firmly behind him. He felt vaguely ashamed of his behaviour towards Wolfie. In truth, it wouldn't have mattered if Wolfie had stayed in the room it was just that Vlad preferred not to have him around. Of course he cared for Wolfie, the little boy was his half brother after all and Vlad would protect him just as he would protect any member of his family but he couldn't help the feelings of jealousy and resentment that Wolfie's presence stirred. Sometimes it was painful to observe the carefree and affectionate nature of his relationship with Ingrid and contrast it to his own fraught and difficult experiences.

Ingrid languidly sipped a glass of blood. "This had better be good."

Vlad walked over to her dressing table and set down a beautifully wrapped box. "A present."

Ingrid's eyes brightened with excitement. "What for?" she asked suspiciously even as she reached for the box. When Vlad remained silent, she began untying the red ribbon and tearing the black paper. She gasped softly as she removed the layers of midnight black tissue to reveal a tiara. Reverently, she picked up the gift and turned it around in her hands so that she could admire it. Intricately woven strands of blackened gold curled around glittering rubies and black diamonds. "Vlad, this is exquisite," Ingrid whispered disbelievingly as she held the tiara up to the candlelight. Carefully she placed the tiara on her dark hair. The black and red of the tiara was a perfect match for her ball gown. A plain satin corset tightly laced with a skirt consisting of several layers of netting, satin with tiny red sequins overlain with black lace. Ingrid Dracula's reputation as one of the most beautiful vampires in the world would certainly not be disputed tonight.

His sister turned to him with mistrust in her eyes. "Why?"

Vlad shrugged dismissively. "You're my sister. Do I need a reason beyond that?"

Ingrid's gaze flickered away. "You should go. I have to finish getting ready." She turned back to the dressing table to gaze at her non-existent reflection in the mirror.

Vlad was grateful that the mirror didn't show his reflection either otherwise she would have seen the hurt in his eyes.

* * *

"_What he fails to understand is that some breathers actually enjoy it. I believe it can be a highly erotic experience."_

"_Hmm but for them or you?"_

"_But bun-buns..!"_

"_Don't you dare bun-buns me! I've told you before. Vlad is not getting betrothed. He's barely two decades old!"_

"_The O'Connells have always been breather-lovers. It's no surprise that he's favouring them."_

"_The trick is to completely ignore him. Aloof and mysterious."_

Conversations flowed and ebbed around Vlad as he circulated the crowds at the ball. His father had always preferred to lounge on his throne at balls. He thought it maintained an air of aristocratic indifference. Vlad preferred to mingle amongst the crowds. It gave him an excellent opportunity to drop a few hints, sound out new ideas and listen to the latest concerns. It was amazing how a few glasses of vintage blood loosened tongues.

"You clumsy wench! Perhaps I should snack on you instead!" The vampire raised his hand to strike the breather servant.

Within a second Vlad was there. He caught the vampire's hand in mid-air. There was a slight crunching sound as Vlad clenched his fist around the vampire's hand easily breaking a couple of bones in the process. "I don't think so," he said coldly. He released the vampire's hand. "Leave. Immediately." Clutching his hand, the vampire disappeared with a slight swooshing sound. Vlad turned to the breather. "Are you ok?"

The servant girl nodded vigorously. She was temporarily speechless in shock at the Grand High Vampire intervening on her behalf. Vlad gave her the tiniest of smiles and patted her on the shoulder before continuing his walk.

"You do so love to play the knight in shining armour." Ingrid appeared suddenly at his side.

Vlad glanced at her. "I thought you were busy dancing."

"It doesn't pay to dance with the same vampire too often," Ingrid answered cryptically before melting back into her sea of admirers.

Vlad reached his throne and sat down with a heavy sigh. He gratefully accepted a goblet of soy blood from Renfield. From the vantage point of his elevated throne, he was able to observe the festivities taking place in the hall. Hundreds of candles brightened the darkness of the hall. The orchestra was playing traditional music. Fire eaters and trapeze artists performed tricks. The crowd was a mixture of vampires, werewolves, witches, ghouls, breathers and many more. In the midst of the dancing crowds, Ingrid glittered as she moved from one possible suitor to another.

"Vladimir Dracula," a familiar voice and scent assaulted his senses. Esmeralda curtseyed deeply before him making sure her ample cleavage was in his eye range. "How very pleasurable," she emphasised the word breathily, "to see you again." Esmeralda rose slowly from her curtsey.

Vlad allowed himself a small smirk in reply. A beautiful French vampire, Esmeralda remained ever the seductress with her long dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her tight purple and black lace gown showed off every perfect curve of her one hundred year old body. Such a cliché to be shown the ropes by an older woman but, Vlad's smirk widened as the memories flooded back, such ... fun.

"Hello Esmeralda." He kept his voice deliberately cool as he was conscious of the hundreds of hungry eyes watching them.

"Your Highness." Esmeralda pouted her perfect lips. "Have you arranged any after party entertainment?" She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "Say a private party for two... or three in your coffin."

Vlad laughed contemptuously. "No, but thank you." He cast an admiring glance over Esmeralda's form as he took another sip of his soy blood .

"How disappointing," Esmeralda purred. She laid a gloved hand upon Vlad's arm. "Then won't you at least dance with me?" She smiled seductively with just the merest hint of fang. "For old times' sake."

Despite his best intentions, Vlad was flattered by her attention. He stood up and offered his arm to Esmeralda. "For old times' sake," he repeated her words. It was almost gratifying to see the evil look that Ingrid shot him as he stepped on to the ballroom floor with Esmeralda. It continued to surprise him how Ingrid had taken Erin's side in their break up. _"Who knew that you could be such a lying, cheating, conniving bastard? Perhaps you're more of a Westerna than a Dracula?" _Despite her harsh words, Ingrid had still put her arm around him and let him cry on her shoulder as he mourned the loss of his first love. Vlad forced the dark sadness of those memories out of his mind. Now was not the time for weakness.

Unlike the previous night, Vlad had to remember complicated dance steps as he moved around the floor with Esmeralda in time to the music. Esmeralda followed his lead with ease, her body elegant and sensual as it moved to the music. "How masterful you have become," she whispered into Vlad's ear before he twirled her around and pulled her back against him closely. "I remember how you were at first. So nervous." She stepped away from him then stepped closer. "How inexperienced." Her smile was positively gloating.

Vlad twirled her away again.

"I prefer not to remember that way," he said firmly, with just the slightest hint of a threat in his voice.

Esmeralda pressed against his chest, much closer than necessary for the dance. "I treasure the memories." She gazed deeply into his eyes before stepping away again and then back. "Such enthusiasm." She pouted playfully.

Vlad was profoundly grateful that he was unable to blush. Esmeralda was sending him every signal possible that she wanted him to take her to his coffin tonight. Yet her beauty and wiles didn't have the same effect on him anymore. Once he had found her bewitching, he had been intoxicated by her apparent attraction to him. An intoxication which had perhaps been enhanced when compared to Erin's subtle rejections. Now though, Vlad wished that the dark locks of hair falling on his shoulder were golden and the heavy musky scent was lighter. He kept his face cold and impassive in the face of Esmeralda's blatant flirting.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a morning visitor to your coffin?" she whispered seductively into his ear before flicking her tongue against the sensitive hollow underneath.

Vlad forced himself not to back away from her advances. Any such move would be interpreted as a sign of weakness by both Esmeralda and all the onlookers. "I regret to say I am already booked up." It wasn't a lie. He had research papers to read however he knew from the flash of jealousy in Esmeralda's eyes she had interpreted it another way.

Esmeralda's smile turned cold. "Of course, as the Chosen One you must have many responsibilities weighing on your shoulders." She ran her hands speculatively over his chest before allowing Vlad to twirl her around again. "Like the Blood Brotherhood." She pressed against him before stepping out again. "You wouldn't believe how desperate they are to assassinate you." She stepped in again but this time she reached up to wrap an arm around Vlad's neck. "I'm sorry." Her whisper was anguished.

Vlad was aware of deep ache in his chest. He gasped in pain as the sharp stake was thrust through his flesh and into his unbeating heart. The wooden tip ripped apart his clothing, flesh and muscle. In shock, he staggered back from Esmeralda and looked down at the stake protruding from his chest. Blood so dark it was almost black was oozing out of his heart into the crisp whiteness of his shirt. As the blackness seeped through his clothing, it was followed by burning pain as the anaesthesia of shock began to wear off. A terrible hush fell over the hall as everyone realised that the Grand High Vampire and Chosen One had been staked before their very eyes.

Esmeralda collapsed sobbing onto the floor before Vlad. "They have my family, I'm so sorry Vlad. I'm so sorry"

"VLADIMIR! NO!" Even through the agonising pain, Vlad was vaguely aware of his father's tortured scream. He could feel the darkness rising, threatening to consume him and he knew with terrible certainty in this briefest of moments, that he couldn't fight it.

**Chapter 19 teaser **

...

_**(Well that would be telling, wouldn't it? xo) **_


	21. Chapter 19

_**Wow so many reviews! Thank you very much. Perhaps I should do cliff hangers more often! Sorry for how chapter 18 ended – I was channelling my inner Ingrid. I'm thinking of writing a flashback chapter to explain what happened between Bertrand and Vlad but I'm worried that using flashbacks is too cheesy. What do you think? **_

_**WARNING: This chapter is quite dark.  
**_

_**Thanks for reading! xo**_

**Chapter 19**

"VLADIMIR! NO!" Her father's screams echoed through the quiet stillness of the hall penetrating Ingrid's dazed mind. Her little brother had just been staked. Vlad had just been staked. Ingrid held up a hand to her mouth in shock. The cold wetness of the tears streaming down her face surprised her. Vlad was just standing there black blood dripping on to the floor. Why hadn't he shattered into dust? The forbidden thought crept into her head as she, along with every single other individual in the hall, stared at Vlad in shock.

Vlad's eyes flashed black and his fangs extended as he began to laugh manically. With ease Vlad dislodged the stake from his heart, the movement created a gurgling sound as more dark blood bubbled to the surface. A sound which made Ingrid nearly retch in horror. The stake burst into flames in her brother's hand. The ground began to rumble beneath her feet, the walls were shaking, and a strange light was beginning to form around Vlad as he raised his arms up to the vaulted ceiling. His evil laugh filled the hall striking terror into Ingrid. Vlad had only ever laughed like that once and the memory alone was enough to make her cower in fear. Strange blue and purple light was swirling around Vlad, the crackle of thunder and lightning filled the hall. It looked as if Vlad was being repeatedly struck by blue lightning whilst he just stood there – laughing. Suddenly, in the time it took to blink, Vlad seemed to absorb all the light and noise. Through all the fear, a trickle of relief crept into Ingrid's heart. He was ok, despite what had just happened Vlad was ok. Ingrid struggled to remain standing as sudden faintness swept over her.

Vlad spun around in a slow circle displaying his unblemished chest to the entire hall. He snarled through his fangs. "Anyone else fancy a shot?" The silence was deafening. "I didn't think so." Vlad's smile was malevolent.

There was a scuffling sound as Esmeralda got to her feet and began running. Without even looking in her direction, Vlad flung out his hand using his kinetic powers to fling her across the full length of the hall. There was a sickening crack as her skull impacted against the farthest wall and her unconscious body slithered down to the floor. Various Justices moved swiftly to claim their prize.

"Don't stake her!" Vlad hissed the order, his eyes red with fury.

Sudden anger erupted in Ingrid and she clenched her fangs in an effort to stop herself from grabbing a stake from the nearest Justice and finishing the job herself. That bitch had just tried to kill her brother! Surely Vlad's mercy had some limits! He couldn't possibly spare the life of an assassin.

"I want her interrogated first." Vlad's voice was cold and calm. His glance in Esmeralda's direction was dismissive. "I want a report on my desk by tomorrow morning before I sign the death warrant."

Ingrid shuddered at his words. Interrogated. Another word for tortured. Then she steeled herself against pity. What did it matter? Didn't Esmeralda deserve everything that she was getting? After all she had just staked her little brother!

"Now ladies and gentlemen, please do excuse me. It appears my shirt has been ruined." Vlad laughed playfully as he gestured to his bloodstained outfit. It was only the sign that he had been attacked. He waved at the entertainers to continue their abandoned antics. "Please enjoy the ball in my absence." He bowed theatrically before sauntering off.

Ingrid became aware that she was holding tightly onto the arm of the handsome vampire that she had been dancing with. She let go of him, stubbornly refusing to admit that she had been affected by the scene she had just witnessed. So what if Vlad had nearly been dusted? It's not like she even cared for her little brother anyway. Belatedly the shock overwhelmed her senses and she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

Vlad stormed through the castle, baring his viciously sharp fangs at anyone who dared get in his way. Once he reached his private chambers, he slammed the doors shut behind him. Slumping against the doors, Vlad struggled to regain control of the darkness within. Breather techniques. He inhaled and exhaled slowly counting to ten each time. His mouth was dry with thirst. His fangs were aching with desire to rip someone's throat out. His entire body was jangling with electricity. It felt like he was alight with fire. The energy was burning through his bloodstream, his cells, even his hair seemed to crackle with the static. Vlad forced himself to calm down. He needed to focus. He walked slowly towards the large balcony. Pressing his forehead against the welcoming coolness of the glass, he maintained his steady pattern of breathing in and out. This had been a bad day. A very bad day. He had just been staked for garlic's sake! And he had survived. That was not normal. Vlad pressed his hand up against the glass, his fingers followed the progress of the raindrops trickling down the panes. Was it really just yesterday that Robin had insisted he try a vindaloo curry? Yesterday that he had been surrounded with friends dancing to terribly cheesy music? Yesterday since Scarlett had been in his arms? The normality of his Oxford life had never seemed so far away. I don't want this, Vlad thought miserably, I don't want to be a vampire, let alone a super vampire. I don't want to rule. I just want to be normal. Patterns of frost were spreading across the glass from where it was in contact with his forehead and hand. Vlad realised that the burning wasn't his body heating up, it was the opposite. His body temperature had plunged to freezing cold.

Dmitri's knock, firm and decisive, rattled the chamber doors. "Enter." Vlad stepped back from the glass before he could accidentally shatter it with the coldness of his touch. He kept his back turned to Dmitri. He didn't want to see what was in the other vampire's eyes.

There was a rattle of china. "I brought Your Highness some refreshment." Dmitri's voice was as level and emotionless as it had ever been.

"I don't want any blood!" Vlad snarled. Right now, with the darkness inside howling for vengeance, he wasn't sure he could resist the lure of breather blood. He didn't appreciate the temptation.

"I didn't bring you any." Dmitri's answer was calm. "I did however bring a freshly ironed shirt for Your Highness."

Vlad turned around slowly to see the cup of tea sitting on the table beside his coffin. Steam rose in a lazy spiral from the hot liquid. "Tea?" he said incredulously.

"Yes. It is what your pet breathers would have brought you," Dmitri replied with remarkable simplicity. He set the new crisply ironed shirt upon Vlad's coffin. "I will wait for you outside Your Highness." He bowed his head and turned to march out of Vlad's chambers.

Vlad picked up the china cup. The heat warmed his cold fingers. He breathed in the familiar scent of tea. "Dmitri, wait!" The older vampire halted and half turned to face him. "Thank you," Vlad said awkwardly. This was possibly the most thoughtful thing his protector had ever done for him. An unexpected gesture that indicated Dmitri was aware of Vlad's true needs. Far more aware than Vlad had ever given him credit for.

Dmitri hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Your Highness, not everyone is against your vision." In the shadows, Vlad could have sworn a glint of sadness entered Dmitri's eyes. "Some of us would like the chance to live alongside breathers." Dmitri bowed his head once again in his usual deferential manner and stepped outside.

* * *

With a flash of red satin, Vlad exchanged one beautiful vampiress for another on the dance floor much to the disgruntlement of his former partner and to the delight of the next one in waiting. There was no shortage of beautiful women trying to get the attention of the Chosen One. Watching his son glide from one woman to another, the Count felt the stirrings of secret pride. After all that awkward business with the breather-slayer girl, Vladimir had finally embraced his father's legacy of being a cold-hearted, seductive womaniser. Ah the trail of broken hearts the Count had left behind him in the bad old days. There hadn't been a woman, dead or alive, who could have resisted him. Except Magda. The fur loving hag.

"Your son is dancing." Ivan Dracula came to stand beside his older brother. "He was staked two hours ago!"

"Don't complain," the Count said moodily.

"Vlad just survived a staking. Is nobody else freaked out?" Ivan's voice was low but persistent. "You can't survive a stake through the heart."

"Well clearly the Chosen One can," the Count replied sarcastically.

"Just how powerful is he?" Ivan whispered nervously.

The Count remained silent. He couldn't answer Ivan's question and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the truth himself.

* * *

Moisture dripped down the walls of the dungeon. The pit pat of the water couldn't disguise the sound of tiny feet scrabbling in the stonework. The torches pitted in the walls didn't give off much light and even the closest corners remained shrouded in shadows. Vlad made a sound of disgust as his feet touched the slimy steps. He made a mental note that the dungeon would have to be renovated. He wanted clean, shiny and sterile cells not this festering, medieval hellhole. His cloak trailed along the dirt, as he moved determinedly towards the cell that held Esmeralda. The rusty metal parts of the lock screeched as he opened the cell door with his powers.

"Only Dmitri will enter with me," Vlad said imperiously to the anxious guards. He stepped into the dark and dirty cell. Dmitri followed him wordlessly.

Esmeralda was huddled up in a corner. Her beautiful face was now dirty and tearstained, her long hair dishevelled and her elegant clothing torn and grubby. She whimpered slightly as the two vampires entered the cell.

Vlad stepped forward so that she could see his face in what little light there was. Her dark eyes widened in terror. He kneeled down beside her. Gently he touched the purple burns on her wrists. He recognised the markings of garlic drenched fang cuffs. Unnecessary given that she was unconscious at the time of her arrest. "Did they hurt you?" He kept his voice empty of emotion.

Esmeralda was startled by the softness of his touch. "Not yet. They wanted to enjoy the rest of the ball. Or have you come to perform the interrogation personally?" Her once generous mouth was now in a thin white line of fear.

"No." Vlad shook his head slowly. "I'm here to offer you a deal. Tell me everything you know about the Blood Brotherhood and I will ensure that your family are rescued. You won't be interrogated."

Esmeralda looked up at him with sudden hope in her eyes. "And you won't execute me?" she whispered pleadingly. "For old times' sake?"

Vlad's face was grim as he gave a tiny shake of his head. "No. Under vampire law you must be slain for the attempted assassination of the Grand High Vampire. Your actions were in public, witnessed by hundreds. My hands are tied." He paused for a few minutes as he waited for her to stop sobbing. "However I will ensure that your execution is a quick staking rather than death by dawn. It will be in private. I will not forfeit your family's wealth and lands." He met her frightened gaze with ice cold steadiness. "Do we have a deal?"

* * *

The dark damp streets were alive with vivid colours, noise and an endless stream of humanity rather the worse for drink. Young women lay semi-conscious on the edge of the pavement, hair covered in sick and eyes staring vacantly at him. Men scuffled in the roads, fists flying and voice bellowing. And this is the humanity you want to save Vlad? Are they truly worth it? These were Bertrand's thoughts as he moved gracefully through the revellers on the street, taking care to avoid the all too frequent pools of urine, vomit and blood. Occasionally an overconfident young man would yell at him to 'bring it on'. A simple look in their direction was usually sufficient to make them back off. Bertrand was perfectly happy to 'bring it on' but there was a time and place. Sinking his fangs into a succulent neck in public, in front of all these witnesses, would be foolish. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. He caught the scent of a particularly delectable breather and he turned his head slightly to observe a group of attractive young women trying to wave down a taxi. His intense gaze caught the attention of one woman. She smiled slightly at him, her blue eyes meeting his before lowering her gaze modestly Ah, that look, the flicker of interest before demurely casting one's gaze away, some aspects of courting behaviour never changed regardless of the century. He didn't take his eyes off her as he moved determinedly across the road. He had already feasted tonight, a couple of breathers in the nightclub, one down in the London underground but now, mmm he breathed in her scent, he fancied some dessert. He observed her blush as he came to stand silently beside her, a hand reached up to tuck her long blonde hair behind her ear and she licked her lips nervously. He caught her hand, heard her gasp of surprise at the coldness of his skin. His eyes met hers. "Come with me," he commanded.

Minutes later, down a dark alleyway, Bertrand sank his fangs into her unresisting throat. London was such an excellent hunting ground, it was teeming with breathers many of them living on life's edges. It was the sort of environment where it was easy to pick out one from the crowd and make them disappear. The proximity of London to Oxford meant that it was easy to fly from one city to the other. He wanted to maintain a low profile. He would rather the Chosen One did not know of his presence in Oxford. At least not until the timing was right. Ah Vladimir Dracula! How his eyes had devoured the sight of the Chosen One after such a long period of separation. How he had leant into the breeze carrying Vlad's scent. How could the breathers surrounding him not recognise what he was? The most powerful vampire on earth walked among them. With one sweep of his arm he could swipe them all out of existence and they didn't even know! Vlad was fond of surrounding himself with breathers. Bertrand could understand keeping some breathers as servants, you never know when you may require an errand to be completed in the middle of the daylight, but as 'friends'? Vlad was so perverse. It was infuriating yet strangely delightful.

The Blood Brotherhood were pushing at him for some sort of action, they were always so very impatient. They failed to understand the merits of careful observation and strategy. Bertrand hadn't rushed in the first time when he approached the Dracula boy. No, quite the contrary, he had spent weeks watching and learning about the Draculas at that dreadful breather school. In the process of doing so he had uncovered Vlad's weakness – his attachment to family. When the time came, Bertrand had used that weakness against Vlad with brutal efficiency. _"Leave my family alone." "I am not responsible for the deaths of your family Vlad. You are."_ Yes, the Blood Brotherhood would soon learn that Bertrand du Fortunesa did things his own way.

* * *

The moon shone brightly in the crisp autumn sky. The ethereal glow spilled over the crumbling gravestones and metal railings of the churchyard. Excited chatter and laughter echoed amongst the silent graves as churchgoers streamed out of the warmly lit building. Scarlett stepped out of the crowd and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moonlit scene. Modern graveyards with their shiny new headstones spooked her. Old graveyards like this one with stones so old that the engraving was almost illegible, where wild flowers crept around the rusted metal work and the statutes had become almost faceless, were an entirely different matter. Old graveyards always seemed peaceful. Perhaps it was because the grief was so long ago that any tears caused by death had long since dried. Perhaps it was because modern graveyards reminded her too much of her parents' funerals.

"Hey blondie!" The shout startled her and automatically she turned to frown disapprovingly at the person. "Yes I mean you!" A young man was approaching her with intent. He was tall, slim with a dark moustache. She didn't recognise him from college or any of her classes but nonetheless she waited politely for him to reach her.

"I need to speak to you," he said in a low, urgent voice. He looked around with wary suspicion.

"I'm sorry but do I know you?" Scarlett smiled courteously even as she subtly stepped away from him. He was leaning in too close, she disliked it when people invaded her personal space and he stank of garlic.

"No, but you need to listen to me. You're in great danger." He stepped forward again causing another waft of garlic to wash over her.

"OK, well I'm afraid I'm a bit of a hurry." Scarlett moved forwards to push past him.

He deliberately blocked her path. "It's about Vlad!" he said hastily.

Scarlett paused. She looked up at him. Something in the nervousness of his demeanour made her uneasy. He seemed like an ordinary young man in his teens except for the smell of garlic and the military style of jacket. "Vlad?" she said questioningly.

"Goes by the name of Vlad Count?" He raised his eyebrows. When she nodded, he continued to speak but in a much lower voice. "He's dangerous. I don't know what your relationship with him is but you have got to stay from him. He is deadly. I shouldn't be telling you this but I can't stand by and watch another innocent person get hurt."

Scarlett just stared at him. She realised her mouth was probably agap. This guy was crazy. Scary crazy. "Er, thanks," she said carefully, trying keep her voice level and her face composed.

He must have seen some disbelief or concern because he grabbed her by the arm. "He's a vampire!" he hissed menacingly at her.

"Please let go of me," Scarlett said firmly.

"And I'm a slayer." He was fumbling in his jacket with his free hand.

"Is everything ok here?" Father James' voice came from the church entrance.

The young man let go of her arm. "His name isn't Vlad Count. He's a Dracula. The son of Count Dracula." With those words, the young man began sprinting in the opposite direction of the approaching priest.

Scarlett stared after him in disbelief. Clearly Vlad's Halloween costume had been too convincing for some people.

* * *

Ingrid was waiting for him in his chambers. She sat on his closed coffin in a sea of glittering lace as her ballgown billowed around her. "We need to talk," she began assertively as soon he stepped through the doors.

Vlad groaned. "It's been a long night Ingrid." He discarded his cloak on the floor and moved determinedly towards his coffin.

Ingrid didn't budge. "You need to make me your official heir." She folded her arms firmly across her chest and fixed him with an unwavering gaze.

Vlad sighed in exasperation. "Is this really the time to have this discussion?" He gestured impatiently at her to get off his coffin.

Ingrid stubbornly remained seated. "I think it's perfect timing," she smiled sweetly with just a hint of fang, "If Esmeralda's assassination attempt had succeeded, it would have chaos tonight. There would be a vacuum of power. If you named me as your heir then such an intolerable situation could be avoided."

Vlad's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "No," he said flatly, "I don't think I need to give you any more reasons to try and kill me."

Ingrid's face was a picture of angelic innocence. "I am only thinking of what's best for our kind."

"I said no." Vlad's control slipped and his voice echoed unnaturally around the chambers.

Ingrid tutted in reproach. "Temper, temper." Her smile was brimming with malice.

Vlad flung his dining jacket on the floor. "You know perfectly well that the next Grand High Vampire will be selected by the blood scroll. Just as it has been done for millennia. My position cannot be inherited so stop with the power games and get out!" He stalked over to the table where Dmitri had thoughtfully laid out some soy blood and a flask of sleeping draught.

"Drinking that synthetic goo doesn't make you any less of a killer." Vlad's hand froze at the pure poison in Ingrid's voice. He fought hard to keep control of his temper as she continued to taunt him. "Poor little Vladdy! Always fighting against his evil side, hasn't even bitten a breather, won't even taste proper blood. That's all it takes really. To be good. You can dust as many vampires as you want, sign the death warrant of your former lover, even make your breather-slayer girlfriend mysteriously disappear. But as long as you don't drink proper blood you can pretend you are not a monster." Ingrid's fangs brushed his cheek as she whispered the last damning words into his ear.

Vlad refused to turn his head to even glance at her. "Get. Out."

This time Ingrid obeyed.

**Chapter 20 teaser**

"_Oooh fangs!"  
_


	22. Chapter 20

**_Wow so many reviews! Thank you all so much! Posting early again but that's what lots of reviews does to me : ) This chapter is ... weird but I hope you enjoy it anyway xo_ **

**Chapter 20**

_The air was heavy with the scent of blood. Opening his eyes, Vlad gazed upon a red and black landscape that was strangely familiar. The night sky was eerily dark; no stars twinkled against the empty blackness. Looking down at his hands, Vlad realised with horror that he was covered in blood. His clothes, his hands, he could taste it even in his mouth. Blood was everywhere, it gushed around him the rivulets pooling into streams, the scent hung in the air so thick he could almost taste the different blood types with the tip of his tongue. He could sense the fear amongst the surrounding vampires. They were retreating behind him with gasps and whispers of terror at the approaching light on the horizon. But this was not the sun rising in the sky. A group of breathers were approaching them slowly but determinedly. Dressed in robes of shimmering silver, the light seemed to encircle them; it hurt his eyes to watch them advance across the bloody terrain. He could hear their soft chants of Aramaic, smell the burning incense, he could feel the pounding of blood through their fragile hearts. One breather walked ahead of the others, the light was most intense around their hands, almost as if they were holding the sun. Vlad rose to his feet apprehensively as the breathers moved closer. Without even thinking about it, he hissed through his fangs in a warning as the lead breather became recognisable. Scarlett. Vlad stared at her in shock. Light seemed to play around her, golden shades in her hair, luminous skin against the whiteness of her dress, her eyes, a dark sapphire blue, met his. He could read the fear in them even from this distance. Vlad began running towards her, running across the red soil and towards the ever brightening light in her hands. It felt like he was running to his death and yet it didn't matter because he had to reach her, he had to show her that he wasn't evil; he had to save her from the burning light. Reaching her, he heard her whisper "It hurts," before he grabbed her hand in his. Light exploded around them, the dazzling whiteness blinding him, the heat burning through him, the pain so intense he wanted to scream but couldn't. Through all the light, heat and pain, he clung to Scarlett's hand, desperately trying to keep hold of her even as he felt her fingers slipping out of his hand. _

* * *

Vlad landed with a painful thump on the hard ground. A cool breeze drifted over his face as the leaves rustled welcomingly. He could feel the moistness of grass beneath his hands. Upon hearing an owl hoot in the distance, Vlad opened his eyes slowly to gaze upon a canopy of greenness overhead. He was back in the dreamworld again. Groaning in discomfort, Vlad clambered to his feet, his body felt bruised and sore. Still dizzy from the fall, it took Vlad a couple of seconds to take in his surroundings. The birdsong indicated that it was sunrise but the lush green canopy and surrounding trees protected him from the burning rays of the rising sun. For the second time that morning, he felt a ripple of shock wash over him as he watched Scarlett slowly rise to her feet.

* * *

Feeling nauseous and disoriented, Scarlett closed her eyes and lifted her face to the breeze which was deliciously cold against her skin. She shuddered at the fading horror of her nightmare. At least on this occasion, she had managed to change the direction of her dream. Slowly, she reopened her eyes to take in her new surroundings. A couple of yards away, Vlad was standing against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing evening dress, a beautifully cut black suit, a deep red waistcoat with a crisp white shirt and bowtie. His long black cape fell elegantly around him, the red satin lining matching his waistcoat.

Scarlett burst out laughing. This was what happened when you went to bed with crazy ideas. After being approached by that weird guy, she had gone home and looked over the photos from the Halloween party. Afterwards she had laughed at her suspicions because as clear as daylight Vlad's image was captured on the digital camera. Just like Robin or any other student. But her subconscious clearly had other ideas and now she was dreaming about Vlad as a vampire. Not just any vampire, a proper traditional vampire in evening dress and a cape. It was enough to make her almost swoon. Vampire Vlad looked impossibly sexy. Especially when he frowned like that! She tried to stop laughing because it seemed to annoy him. "Look at you. You're a vampire!"

Vampire Vlad shook his head hastily. "No, I'm really not!" he protested with a look of alarm.

"Evening dress? Cape?" Scarlett gestured at his outfit. "Definitely a vampire."

Vampire Vlad looked down at his clothes. "I can explain," he said with perfect seriousness. He watched her with suspicion as she slowly walked around him so that she could admire him from every angle. Evening dress always enhanced a man's looks and when you put it on someone as devastatingly gorgeous as Vlad... "What are you doing?" he asked sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

Scarlett couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Admiring the view," she answered playfully.

Vampire Vlad gave her a look of complete amazement. "Er... really?" His voice was full of doubt.

Scarlett nodded vigorously "Oh yes." That was probably too enthusiastic but it wasn't like this was real. This was her dream and if she was going to imagine Vlad dressed as a vampire then she could also imagine flirting with him. She let her gaze trail provocatively over his body before once again meeting his gaze. "It's superbly sexy."

Vampire Vlad looked startled at her compliment. His smile was almost shy. "Superbly sexy?"

"Mmm yes." Scarlett moved closer so that she was only a few inches away from him. She breathed in the enticing smell of his aftershave. Now this was sort of vivid dream she could live with. "Oooh fangs!" she exclaimed in wonder as Vampire Vlad's smile revealed gleaming white sharp incisors. "No, don't! They are lovely fangs," she said reassuringly as Vampire Vlad quickly stopped smiling and closed his mouth. "Rather sexy actually."

* * *

Vlad had to admit that he was struggling with this concept. He was imagining that Scarlett knew he was a vampire. And she found him sexy. She found his fangs sexy? He shook his head in bewilderment. Talk about deluded fantasies! He realised that Dream Scarlett was reaching up to touch his fangs. He swiftly grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Don't! They're sharp!" he said warningly. Electricity jolted through him at touching her. Her wrist was solid in his grasp. He could feel the blood pulsing through the veins beneath her delicate skin. His heart almost started beating again with sheer shock. "You're real!" He gazed in disbelief as Scarlett laced her fingers softly, teasingly through his. "But that's impossible." Breathers couldn't enter the dreamworld. Not in the same way as vampires. Robin had once appeared in the dreamworld but he had been an image only. A ghost like projection. A figment of Vlad's imagination.

Scarlett's laugh was soft and seductive. "Of course I'm real. It's my dream."

"Your dream?" Vlad raised his eyebrows. He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her soft skin. He noted with pleasure how her breathing became slightly shallower at his touch.

"Yes." With her free hand, she was tracing the badge attached to his cape. "What's this?"

"Family coat of arms," Vlad replied distractedly. He let go of her hand so that he could tilt her face up to meet his gaze. "Scarlett, this is impossible," he whispered as his fingers gently stroked her jaw line.

Scarlett moved closer to press her body against him. "No," she said resolutely, "It's not. It's my dream and I will do what I want." Her hands glided over his chest as she rose on her tiptoes to press her lips against his throat.

Vlad groaned deeply at the hotness of her mouth against the vulnerable flesh of his throat. All thought became incoherent, as desire flooded through him. With one arm around her waist, he pulled her tightly against his body. As a vampire he had a natural dislike for anyone touching his neck but any concerns about his vulnerability were forgotten as Scarlett's mouth moved across his skin sending erotic shockwaves through his entire body.

* * *

Scarlett laughed softly against the warmth of Vampire Vlad's neck as she paused for breath. Her left hand was hurting slightly from clutching his cape to keep her balance. Tilting her head back, she looked up at him, his eyes were dark in the dim light, once again fangs gleamed at the corners of his mouth. This time when she reached up to touch his face, he didn't stop her. Gently she brushed his dark hair away from his forehead, stroking his beautifully defined cheekbones before tracing his full mouth. "My darling Vladimir," she whispered lovingly. Her heart was racing in anticipation as he slowly bent his head to kiss her. Hesitantly, he brushed his mouth lightly against hers, a butterfly touch that sent sparks of electricity through her body. She gasped with disappointment when he didn't continue.

"Say that again," he demanded as his fingers crept into her hair to gently pull her closer.

His mouth hovered tantalisingly over hers.

"My darling Vladimir." Scarlett whispered the words again, moving forward just slightly so that her lips moved softly against his in a frustratingly light caress. Vlad's response was to capture her mouth in a gentle lingering kiss. His mouth became harder and hotter against hers as he slowly deepened the kiss. It felt like fire was burning though her entire body, desire making her legs feel weak, making her hold on to his cape tighter than ever. She didn't know what he tasted of but it was delicious and she wanted more. As he pressed his tongue firmly against her lips...

* * *

The alarm clock beeped in protest as Scarlett's hand slammed on the snooze button. With a frustrated groan, she lay back against the pillows and kicked off the duvet. She hated mornings, she hated her alarm clock and she hated being woken up in the middle of a fantastic dream. And what a dream! Her heart was still racing from the warmth of Vlad's mouth against hers. It had been amazingly vivid. She smiled ruefully at the memory of Vlad dressed as a vampire. How embarrassing! Still he had looked gorgeous...

She grimaced in discomfort as a spasm suddenly passed through her left hand. It felt like it had fallen sleep and now the unpleasant sensation of pins and needles was building up. She shook it impatiently and something dark fell against the crisp white of the bed linen. A scream escaped from Scarlett's lips as she recognised the badge from Vlad's cape.

* * *

_Rain poured down from the sky, it slithered off the leather of his cape, water flowed down his face, his heart felt hollow with pain. He could sense her frantic heart beat as she moved towards him in the darkness..._

Vlad's eyes fluttered open as he struggled to wake himself up from that particular nightmare. Staring at the dull gray of the coffin exterior, he frowned as fragments of his dreams flashed through his mind. A red bloodstained landscape. Burning light. _'Rather sexy actually.'_ Scarlett's warm breath against his lips. Terror in the rain. He grimaced as memories from the night before also nudged his mind. The howl of his dark reflections inside him. The pleading look on Esmeralda's face. Wearily he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He didn't want to think about any of that. His thoughts felt fuzzy and disorientated – the effect of the sleeping draught perhaps. There was something important, something his mind was trying to warn him about. Vlad clicked his fingers and the coffin lid opened. He sat up slowly, still trying to gather his thoughts. Fragments of memories were scattered across his mind. The flicker of a pulse in her wrist, her mouth against his skin, '_You're real._' Except she couldn't be. After all how could a mere mortal enter the dreamworld? It was a place which existed only in the imagination of vampires. It was impossible. It was no more than an extraordinarily vivid dream. A fantastic dream but just a memory shimmered to the surface of his consciousness. _'What's this?' 'Family coat of arms.' _

Suddenly alert, Vlad leapt out of his coffin, he rushed to his desk and pulled out a gleaming wooden chest with ornate cravings. He distinctly remembered placing the brooch detailing the Dracula coat of arms in the chest this morning. With a sense of foreboding, Vlad opened the chest. It was empty.

**Chapter 21 teaser**

"_No," he said slowly. "I still don't know what you are talking about."_


	23. Chapter 21

_**Hey people, sorry for not posting on Tuesday. Assessments, exams, general evaluations of knowledge got in the way! Posting this earlier because I'm away this weekend but normality shall be resumed on Tuesday. This chapter is a bit shorter than usual but I promise a nice long one for Tuesday. **_

_**In the words of HyaHya, keep biting, keep writing!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 21**

As she surged through the cold water, Scarlett tried to sort through her thoughts, to make sense of recent events. Swimming required very little focus, once you got into a smooth rhythm it left your mind free to think. Her mind was certainly racing this afternoon, thoughts and ideas were rushing around at such a pace it was making her dizzy. Trying to force them into coherent sentences was difficult enough let alone trying to analyse them rationally.

'_His name isn't Vlad Count. He's a Dracula. The son of Count Dracula.'_ Once she had gotten over the shock of the brooch, she had very firmly pulled herself together, gotten dressed and hurried to the library. It had been fairly easy to find a book detailing the Dracula coat of arms. It had matched the brooch perfectly. Vlad had already admitted that his real name wasn't Count. _'__I took the title as my surname because the family name is quite well known.' _ It was perfectly reasonable that he could be a Dracula. After all didn't a member of the British royal family once argue that they could trace their ancestry back to the Draculas? She already knew that Vlad was descended from nobility. _'My family is an old aristocratic bloodline.' _So what if his real name was Dracula? It didn't mean he was a vampire. That was an enormous assumption to make and based on what exactly? An old aristocratic name? Just because he had a surname famously associated with vampires... And came from Transylvania a country famously associated with vampires...

Vampires did not exist. They were a figment of imagination therefore it was impossible for Vlad to be a vampire. It was ridiculous to even think of them being real! OK, maybe she should try to be logical about this. If she just went through all the legends and myths about vampirism and applied them to Vlad then she would see how incredibly silly she was for even considering the ramblings of a stranger.

Increasing her speed, Scarlett tried to focus on the traditional folklore of vampires. First thing that immediately came to mind was physical appearance. Vlad was very pale but then again so were a lot of people. Skin cancer and reality TV had made a tan considerably less sexy. Vampires couldn't come out in the daylight and she only ever seemed to meet Vlad after sunset but in all fairness she could say the same about any number of students. Some people were just night owls. And there was that time Vlad had taken her for afternoon tea. The weather that day had been really unusual though. That thick fog technically could have blocked out the sun.

'_Things aren't quite how they seem? Strange stuff happening when he's around? Things you can't explain?' _What about that stranger in the garden who had been about to stab Vlad? When his eyes turned green in the library? When he clicked his fingers and the world froze?

No, she chastised herself, be logical, work through the list. What about a reflection? Folklore said that vampires didn't have reflections but Vlad definitely had one. Didn't he? She was sure of it. There had been many times when she had seen his reflection. Take the Champagne Cafe for example. The place was covered in mirrors. Yes, she had definitely seen his reflection that day. During daylight hours. What about the photographs on her digital camera? She had loads of photographs from various outings where Vlad's image was captured by the camera just like everyone else. Not to forget the photographs that Robin had shown her of him with a younger Vlad.

Body temperature – as the living undead it was to be expected that vampires would have a lower body temperature. _'Isn't my hand too cold for you?' _No, he wasn't cold. A shiver of pleasure raced over her body as she remembered the heat of his mouth against hers. Definitely not cold.

Charlie's reaction to him when they first met had been suspicious. Charlie was a medium, aside from having the ability to communicate with ghosts; she could see things that other people were blind to. She would have been able to see Vlad's aura. Surely if Charlie had known Vlad was a vampire, she would have said something? _'Vlad will not be able to resist you. Er actually...Fancy some garlic bread?' _

What about Robin? If Vlad was a vampire then surely Robin would know. He was Vlad's best mate for goodness sake! _'He won't bite!' 'Oh I wouldn't be so sure of that.' _Wouldn't Robin have said something to her? _'He might not be the good guy that I remember. You should be careful.' _Oh for goodness sake! Why was she even thinking this? Why would they lie to her? Why would her two best mates lie to her?

They couldn't lie because vampires did not exist! '_Well, the important thing is that vampires are not real. Right?' _Why would Vlad be so adamant about this assertion in the middle of a fairly trivial conversation?

Vampires can't exist. Not in real life. They were mythical creatures. Creatures that appeared throughout history under different names, it seemed like nearly every civilisation at some point recognised a form of living undead. Why was that? Could there be some truth to the legends? Why not? A part of her mind was clearly trying to tell her something when she was dreaming about Vlad as a vampire. And she knew that there was more to reality; after all didn't she see the future in her dreams? Not to mention that her childhood nightmare was written in some papers from thousands of years ago.

The realisation that Vlad could genuinely be a vampire almost made her stop mid stroke. Not the best idea when you were in the deep end. For a couple of minutes, she struggled to get back into her rhythm so that her mind could once again refocus on her dilemma.

What if she just suspended belief for a moment and thought about the consequences of Vlad being a "real" vampire? _'He's dangerous'._ '_Vlad might not be safe to be around'. 'T__here is this darkness to me.' _Not her Vlad though. Not the Vlad who brought her chocolate brownies to say sorry. Not the Vlad who touched her scars without revulsion. OK, so he definitely had a nasty streak to him. She had seen how he treated Donna. She wasn't deaf to all the college gossip about his exploits. _'That's not really me. Or at least it's not who I want to be.' _But the Vlad who had stood in the Fountain Quad crying, who had held her in his arms like he was drowning?

Scarlett clung onto the edge of the swimming pool as she tried to catch her breath. "You idiot!" she muttered to herself. She didn't care if he was a vampire. Not one jot. It was much too late for that. She was already falling in love. Damn.

* * *

Wolfie peered through the open door. "Ingrid, what's going on?" He looked behind him nervously as yet another roll of thunder echoed through the castle. "The servants are making a mess and Uncle Count is angry."

Ingrid gestured for Wolfie to climb into her coffin. She set aside her paperwork. Tutting in gentle disapproval, she straightened Wolfie's jacket as he curled up beside her. "Vlad's having a Nero moment," she said sourly. For some reason Vlad had woken up in the middle of the day and decided that every servant in the castle must search for his missing brooch. At least he had a missing brooch. The Count had never bothered to give her one.

Wolfie placed his arms adoringly around his sister's waist. "Nero?" he wrinkled up his face in confusion.

"He was an all powerful tyrant who liked to exercise his power in a way that was a pain in the cape." Ingrid couldn't help but cuddle her little brother back.

"What's a tyrant?" Wolfie asked innocently.

Ingrid smiled at his baffled expression. "Never you mind." She ruffled his unruly hair with affection. "You can stay with me until the dust settles."

Wolfie peeked at the papers she had cast aside. "Where's Oxford?"

* * *

"Robin Branagh! We need to talk." Scarlett marched across the quad ignoring the curious glances of their fellow students.

Robin gave her a long suffering look. "Why do people always say that when it's about something bad? Why does no-one ever say 'Robin Branagh we need to talk about your performance in tutorials. You are just so brilliant that you are making everyone feel stupid?' Or how about 'Robin Branagh stop being such a sexy beast, you are driving all the women crazy with lust?'" He folded his arms across his chest. "What have I done this time?"

Scarlett held out the brooch detailing the Dracula coat of arms. She watched Robin's face very carefully to judge his reaction.

Robin's dark eyes didn't even flicker in surprise. "Cool! Where did you get that?" He took the brooch from her and held it up to the fading light. "Excellent design. Very gothic. "

Scarlett was thrown by his complete lack of reaction. If anyone knew the truth about Vlad then it would be Robin. She decided to take a gamble. "Why didn't you tell me Vlad was a Dracula?"

Robin laughed. "I don't know what you are talking about," he said airily. He handed her back the brooch. "Great piece of jewellery though. Do you mind if I borrow it someday to draw it? I could really incorporate this design into some of my latest work."

Scarlett shook her head forcefully. "Don't try to distract me Robin. I know the truth about Vladimir Dracula." She gave him a meaningful look. "The entire truth."

Robin tilted his head slightly as he studied her. "No," he said slowly. "I still don't know what you are talking about." His face was a carefully composed mask of good natured bewilderment.

Scarlett stared belligerently at him but his composure didn't falter. Wow. She made a mental note never to play poker with him. "You're good Robin." They both knew it wasn't really a compliment. She glanced down at the brooch in her hand. "You said I should be careful. That Vlad might be dangerous. That he might not be the person you used to know." She raised her gaze to met Robin's dark eyes which were full of concern. "I get it. You are a loyal friend but answer one question for me. Just one question. Are vampires real?" She could feel herself blushing at the ridiculousness of the question.

Robin's eyes widened just for a second but his face betrayed no other trace of emotion. He cleared his throat before answering with an ambiguous smile. "I would like to think so."

* * *

A blaze of red orange hovered on the dark horizon. Vlad determinedly fastened his cloak around his shoulders and flung open the glass doors to his balcony. As soon as the last of the sunlight seeped away, he would fly straight back to Oxford. He had to get to Scarlett before she found out the truth. He already had a vision of her in the library comparing the brooch to a drawing of the Dracula coat of arms. He could explain away the Dracula name but what if she kept digging? What if Charlie or Robin slipped up? If she found out that he was a vampire then he would lose her. Just like he had lost Erin. Just like he had screwed things up with Annabel.

At the sound of Dmitri's footsteps, Vlad turned to face his protector. "I'm leaving no matter what," he warned. "I won't wait for you."

Dmitri's stern mouth almost curled into a smile. "I understand that Your Highness has an urgent need to depart." It was left unsaid that Dmitri also understood that Vlad would do what he wanted anyway so there wasn't much point in arguing.

Vlad gasped in discomfort as the vision swept over him. Images of Scarlett confronting Robin with the brooch, her voice full of anger _'I know the truth about Vladimir Dracula. The entire truth.' _The vision faded before he could view Robin's response.

"Vladdy! In the name of all that is unholy, what are you doing?" The Count strode out onto the balcony. "You should be resting! Get him inside Dmitri."

Vlad didn't answer him; he was too busy trying to fight the nausea and horror that his sudden vision had brought on. She knew. Scarlett knew. What the hell was he meant to do now? He stared blankly ahead at the sun's dying embers. Was it possible that she was bluffing? That he could reach her in time? Taking a deep breath, Vlad focused his energy on transforming into a bat. As he soared into the gloomy clouds and towards the United Kingdom he could hear his father's roar of displeasure.

**Chapter 22 teaser**

_'The rain was falling heavily, the darkness was oppressive as it surrounded him.'_


	24. Chapter 22

_**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I hope this one won't disappoint. I've had this confrontation planned out in my head from the very beginning. I'm not sure how I managed to write 21 chapters before we got to this point. Warning: possible raunchiness/fluffiness/soppiness. Can't really say anything more without giving away spoilers but I hope you enjoy it. xo**_

**Chapter 22**

Raindrops pattered violently against the window panes. Scarlett rested her head against the cool glass as she sat on the window seat. Darkness had fallen early this evening with the stormy weather. A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. A DVD played in the background but Scarlett couldn't pay attention to it. From the window seat she was able to overlook the college gardens which were dark and empty in the autumn night. A mixture of apprehension and excitement pounded through her body as she waited impatiently for Vladimir Dracula to arrive. Yes, Dracula, not Count. He had lied to her for months about his name, his identity, even his humanity. Not only that but he had led two of her closest friends to lie to her as well. She was more than furious with him, she was absolutely livid but despite her anger, the prospect of being near him again still made butterflies flutter in her tummy. She was almost certain from her dream that he would be coming to her tonight.

In the rainfall a shadow flitted across the lawn, a darkly cloaked figure stood in the pale golden pool of light that the lamps in her room cast upon the sodden lawn. Through the sheets of falling rain, Scarlett could make out the pale handsome face of Vladimir Dracula. Her heart pounding, she quickly moved away from the window, grabbed the brooch containing the Dracula coat of arms and began running out of her room and down the stairs to meet him.

* * *

From the second he touched down on the college lawn, Vlad could sense Scarlett's heartbeat. It was slightly faster than usual. The rain was falling heavily, the darkness was oppressive as it surrounded him and Vlad knew this could only mean one thing- his vision was about to come true. With a heavy heart, he stepped into the pool of light and gazed up at Scarlett's window. He saw her silhouette framed with light move away from the window and heard how her heart rate rapidly accelerated. It was in that moment Vlad knew that she had uncovered the truth. She knew what he was and now he was going to lose her.

His fingers tightened around the edges of his cape as pain violently ripped through him. It felt like barbed wire was strangling his heart. He closed his eyes for a moment and struggled to regain control. No matter what happened next he could never let her see how much it hurt him. He couldn't let her see that she was breaking his heart when she rejected him. Cold, calm and in control – that's what he needed to be. He forced back the tears that were building up in his eyes even though it was unlikely she would be able to distinguish them from the rain. Her every step seemed to echo at an unnaturally loud volume in his ears as he listened intently for her approach. The rain increased in intensity, the water was gushing off the leather of his cape and Vlad closed his eyes briefly against the remorseless onslaught of raindrops against his face.

Opening them again, he watched as Scarlett came to a standstill from her running. Her breathing was slightly shallow, perhaps from the running or perhaps, as her eyes flickered over his cape and leather ensemble, from fear. Looking across the dark space into her sapphire blue eyes, Vlad now understood why he had been so terrified in the vision. In the next couple of moments he was going to lose everything that had made him so happy in the past couple of months. The normalcy of life as a student, the reunion with his best friend, the pretence that he was someone other than the Chosen One would all be lost when Scarlett denounced him as a vampire. But worse of all he was going to lose her. His knees nearly buckled at the thought and he gritted his fangs in his resolve to at least maintain his dignity.

With a look of determination, Scarlett stepped out of the shelter of the cloisters and into the wildness of the rain. Her heartbeat was more frenetic than ever as she took slow measured steps towards him. She held out her hand, the brooch glinting dully in her grasp. "You are Vladimir Dracula?"

Vlad continued to hold her gaze defiantly. "Yes," he replied, his voice full of deathly coldness.

Scarlett wasn't sure what she had been expecting but it hadn't been this. She hadn't expected Vlad to be wearing vampiric attire for starters. At least now she recognised the fiery emotion flooding her body – pure and utter desire. She hadn't anticipated that Vlad would be so formal and composed. It unnerved her. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked her next question. "You are a vampire?"

"Yes," Vlad snarled revealing his sharp fangs. A he spoke lightning crackled overhead.

Scarlett didn't break away from gazing into his brilliantly blue eyes as she continued to walk towards him. He closed his mouth to hide his fangs as she got closer. Standing directly in front of him, Scarlett had to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact. She took a deep breath before asking her final question. "The Chosen One?" she whispered.

Vlad nodded. He looked away as he struggled to contain his tears. He couldn't show any sign of weakness especially not now. Whatever else she had to say, it didn't matter. He didn't need to hear that he was a freak, a monster or an abomination. He didn't need her to say words which would only deepen the wounds and keep him awake during the day. "No!" Her hand grabbed his cape in an effort to stop him moving away. Vlad looked at her in shock as she moved closer laying her hand on his chest.

Scarlett's heart contracted painfully as she saw all the hurt and fear in Vlad's eyes, the slight glimmer of tears at the corners, the tiny tremble of his lips. She realised suddenly that his cold demeanour was merely a protective smokescreen. He stood stiller than a statute as she raised her hand to stroke his face but she caught the flash of disbelief that crossed his beautifully cut features before he could hide his emotions. "You're still Vlad," she whispered as her fingers gently caressed his cheek. She watched as his haughty and arrogant facade faded away, his vulnerability now plain for her to see. "My darling Vladimir," she whispered before standing on her tip toes to brush her lips against his in a gentle kiss. Just that light touch was enough to send a powerful jolt of electricity to every nerve in her body.

She felt Vlad's gasp against her mouth and unsure of his reaction she paused but suddenly Vlad moved forward. He raised his hand to cup her face. Slowly and hesitantly, he pressed his mouth against hers. His kisses were slow and lingering, his lips incredibly gentle. As the tension crackled between them, Scarlett moved closer, unwittingly pressing her lips harder against his as she glided her arms around his neck. Vlad swept her into his embrace with one swift sure movement, pulling her tightly against him. His hand reached up to entangle his fingers in her wet hair. Willingly Scarlett opened her mouth to his passionate kisses as he slipped his tongue past her lips. All thought became impossible when Vlad tasted her mouth. Shockwaves of fiery pleasure rippled throughout her body as his tongue danced with hers.

Vlad felt like a man who had just been reprieved from death. Scarlett's breath was hot against his lips, she responded with a surprising ferocity to the urgency of his kisses, matching his tongue stroke for stroke, gripping his hair tighter in her hand. He was drowning in her scent, her taste, her heartbeat echoed through his body and for the first time in nearly four years it felt like he had blood rushing through his veins. The rain and the darkness faded away, leaving just him and Scarlett in this moment. Lost in hedonistic passion they were oblivious to the heavy rain, the crashes of thunder in the sky and the forks of lightning slamming into the ground in a circle around them.

* * *

The scent of vanilla clung to the yellowing pages of correspondence. It pained him greatly to perform this task but he did it with almost reverence. Sliding each letter carefully out of its envelope, carefully reading the contents before folding it away in an orderly fashion. It hurt to hear their voices again as he read their words. Almost like they were briefly alive for the few minutes that he read each letter. If happiness could have a tangible quality then the majority of the letters held it. A few lines here and there contained a foreboding quality, a warning of the danger that could and eventually did rip the family apart.

Father James hadn't read these letters in almost ten years. He had carefully preserved them for all that time, not just because he knew they would one day be useful to his mission but also because he had loved his brother and his family dearly. At first his grief over their deaths had prevented him from revisiting the past but increasingly as time progressed it was mostly guilt. If Robert knew how he had treated his daughter. How he had sent her into the care of the convent rather than take personal responsibility. Each mention of Scarlett, and there were many such mentions for her parents had adored their only daughter, was a stab to his conscience. Should he have taken a grieving child with him on his travels around the world? It would have prevented him from fulfilling his duty as a member of the Order. It would have drawn unwelcome attention to Scarlett and the last thing that any of them wanted was for Scarlett to raise the interest of the Guild or the vampires. He had made adequate arrangements for the child's well being. He couldn't have foreseen the difficulties that would arise when the authorities asked questions. If the social workers hadn't insisted on intervening then she would never have been dragged through the care system. He had rationalised the arguments so many times in his head that they were almost a mantra but now reading his brother's words for the first time in nearly a decade, all his rationalisations seemed to crumble away. Robert had expected him to keep his little girl safe and loved and despite all of Father James' justifications about anonymity and protection, deep down the priest knew that he had failed.

He folded up the last letter and slid it back into its envelope before setting it on top of the others in an orderly pile. He sipped his whiskey thoughtfully. All the letters had done was confirm the date of Scarlett's first visit to Oxford. There was no hint whatsoever as to what her father and mother had done to the source.

* * *

Talk about sparks flying, Bertrand thought sourly as he observed the glittering spectacle. If it had been anyone else but Vladimir Dracula, he would have been rubbing eyes in disbelief but he had always known that his protégée had untapped depths of power. His upper lip curled in disgust as Vlad swept the young woman into his arms and began to carry her across the lawn. What was the Chosen One's obsession with breathers? Why was it so difficult for Vlad to understand that breathers were food? You did _not_ date dinner.

This whole breather/vampire star crossed lovers scenario was becoming rather tiresome. When Ingrid claimed that the Draculas were cursed in affairs of the heart, Bertrand had been sorely tempted to point out that it was difficult to have a long term relationship with something edible. Still he had gotten rid of the last breather – eventually. It may have taken him months of careful manipulation but eventually he had destroyed Vlad and Erin's, ugh he shuddered in distaste at the word, relationship. The sheer beauty of it had been that Vlad and Erin ended up blaming each other without even suspecting that he had played a role in generating the suspicion, the hurt or the temptation.

With a hiss of frustration at Vlad's lifestyle choices, he transformed into a wolf and began running to his current resting place.

* * *

Vlad deliberately held Scarlett too close as he set her down back on his feet with the extremely satisfying result that her body slowly glided against every inch of his. Cupping her face, he continued to kiss her passionately. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever felt so alive. Kissing Scarlett was beyond intoxicating, it reminded him of breathing, when every gasp of oxygen was precious and desperately needed to stay alive. How was it that just kissing her was more erotic than anything he had experienced before? And Vlad had certainly made up for a lack of experience since he had been crowned Grand High Vampire. Just the sensation of Scarlett's fingers running through his hair turned him on more than any foreplay he had experienced with other women. Just a soft gasp against his mouth was more exciting than any screams or moans he had skilfully elicited from his previous partners. Right now he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire unlife. Even more than blood. And hell that was saying something!

Walking forwards, he guided her towards the bed, one hand gliding down to rest on the small of her back in case she stumbled as she moved backwards. They were both soaking wet from the rain. Vlad was only partially wet since the thickness of his leather cape had provided some shelter from the rain but Scarlett was absolutely drenched. The light material of her dress was heavy and sodden from the downpour. As the back of Scarlett's legs touched the edge of the bed, Vlad moved his hand slowly up the sleek line of her back. Tearing his mouth away from hers he trailed kisses across her cheek to nuzzle gently at her ear, smiling to himself in satisfaction at her startled gasp of pleasure. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes," he murmured silkily in her ear before his fingers began to pull the zip fastener of her dress down. Dipping his head lower to press his lips against her neck, Vlad paused for a second to breathe in her scent before hungrily kissing her neck. Even in his hazy lust driven condition, he was acutely aware of Scarlett's every response to him and when he felt the subtle resistance of her hands against his chest, he flew back instantly to rest against the wall a few feet away.

Thwarted passion rapidly converted to anger. "I am not going to bite you," he spat out the words in frustration as all the lights in the room flickered and thunder rumbled overhead. The look of surprise on Scarlett's face temporarily threw him off his guard.

Bite me?" she said incredulously. "I hadn't even thought of that."

Vlad's laugh was mocking. "Yeah right." He folded his arms across his chest defensively and glared at her. "So it's a coincidence that you push me away when I start kissing your neck."

"You weren't just kissing me!" Scarlett protested.

Vlad cut her off with a sneer. "No clearly I was getting ready to sink my fangs in." He glowered at her. "You were happy to let me kiss your neck before you knew that I was a vampire."

Scarlett felt disorientated and it was taking her a moment to catch up with him. One second Vlad had been kissing her with intent and the next he was a couple of feet away looking incredibly pissed off. "Vladimir," she said very firmly. "I pushed you away because we are in my bedroom, we were kissing and you were trying to take my clothes off and that sort of thing leads to certain activities." Scarlett could feel the embarrassment warm her cheeks. It didn't help when Vlad's eyes flitted appraisingly over her wet clingy dress.

"Mmm," Vlad's mouth curled into a positively wicked smile, "I would very much hope so."

Mesmerised by the pure sexiness of that smile, Scarlett struggled to ignore her hormones which were in agreement with Vlad's insinuation. "No." She forced herself to look away from him. With that smile and his untidy dark hair falling over his forehead into his eyes he was just too much of a sexy distraction. "I don't want that."

"Really?" Vlad whispered in her ear as he suddenly appeared behind her. "Because you wouldn't believe how fast vampires can get out of their clothes." He trailed a finger down the length of her spine, the lightness of his touch sending sparks of electricity across her skin.

Scarlett sighed longingly without even realising it. Vlad naked? Now there was an amazing thought. She shook her head. "Vladimir Dracula you get back against that wall right now." She quickly closed her eyes. "And you had better be clothed."

When Vlad spoke she could actually hear the repressed laughter in his voice. "Now that could have been quite a proposition. Except for those last words."

Scarlett folded her arms across her chest. She kept her eyes closed. It was better this way because then he couldn't tempt her simply by being so damn gorgeous. "It's about sex, not biting." She paused before hastily adding, "But you can't do that either."

"I'm not going to bite you!" Vlad's growl was once again accompanied by a roll of thunder.

Scarlett defiantly placed her hands on her hips. "I know that!" She heard Vlad's sarcastic laugh and it irritated her immensely. "Vladimir, it has nothing to do with you being a vampire ok! Not everyone is as experienced as you and not every girl is capable of just jumping into bed with you." Feeling tearful, she sat down on the edge of the bed. Tamara was right. She was going to screw things up with Vlad. Simply because how could someone like her ever satisfy him?

Vlad's weight settled beside her on the bed. His fingers wrapped reassuringly around her hand. "Look at me Scarlett."

Cautiously Scarlett opened her eyes. Vlad's face was softer now, a gentle understanding dawning in his eyes. He raised his other hand to stroke her face. "I'd understand if you didn't want anything more to do with me," she blurted out. OK she wouldn't really understand but it wouldn't surprise her because every other male had lost interest when they realised they weren't going to get anywhere. She would rather just get the inevitable rejection over and done with.

Vlad stroked her jawline with his fingers, his thumb moving in a sensuous caress over her lips. "Scarlett, I have waited months just to kiss you." He pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "It was worth the wait. If I have to wait longer for anything else then that's ok. I'm confident that it will also be worth the wait." He caught her mouth in what was meant to be a brief kiss but rapidly turned into something more when Scarlett responded fiercely, her mouth hard and eager against his as she entwined her arms around his neck. When she paused for breath, he stroked the warmth of her cheeks admiring the pinkness of her blush. "I should warn you that I will do everything in my power to change your mind." He was smiling again, that strangely wicked smile which was full of temptation. "But if you ever tell me to back off, I will listen," he promised with a look of such sincerity on his face that it was difficult not to believe him.

Scarlett smiled even as she shook her head distrustfully. "You're really not like other guys?" She wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. Vlad's response just seemed too good to be true.

"No, I'm not." Vlad sighed heavily and pressed his forehead against hers. "But Scarlett I _am_ a vampire. You're a breather and there are risks - "

Scarlett cut him off with a soft kiss. "I know, I don't care," she reassured him.

Vlad shook his head. "Seriously though, we should talk about this. I'm dead, I have fangs, I'm a mon-"

"I don't care." Scarlett pressed another lingering kiss against his lips. Her hand glided up to curl her fingers in his untidy hair as she pulled him closer. "I really don't bloody care."

**Chapter 23 teaser**

_'I can't condemn you for having your fun with the peasants. The devil knows I certainly indulged in the pleasures of the flesh.'_


	25. Chapter 23

_**Thank you very much for the lovely reviews for Chapter 22. I'm really delighted that you liked it. Hope you enjoy this one. There is a possibility that I might write a one shot hinting more at what happened with Bertrand. Thanks for reading and reviewing xo**_

**Chapter 23**

"Say it again."

"No."

"Please."

"I feel silly."

"Don't. Your Transylvanian accent is sexy."

"I don't have a Transylvanian accent!"

"It's just the way you roll your 'r's. "

"OK... Vladimir Dracula."

Scarlett laughed softly as she pressed her face against the black fluffiness of Vlad's bathrobe. "See, it's sexy." She peeked up at Vlad to see his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Just sexy?" Vlad stroked her dishevelled hair away from her face. "I must be losing my touch. What happened to 'superbly sexy'?" he teased her. He enjoyed watching the pinkness rise in her cheeks as she blushed furiously.

"That's not fair!" Scarlett protested as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I thought that was a dream. You can't use that against me."

"I'm the son and heir of the great Count Dracula, you can't expect me to play fair." Vlad tilted her face up so that he could kiss her softly. He paused for a moment to gaze into her eyes. "We need to talk, don't we?"

Scarlett nodded, her face growing serious. "Dreams, vampires and prophecies," she said ruefully. "And lies."

Vlad winced slightly at the hard tone of her voice. "I can explain," he promised apologetically. He glanced at the window which showed a brightening sky. "But it's nearly dawn and I have to get home. Tomorrow?" He asked as he stood up and gathered his damp clothes from the radiator. He disappeared into the bathroom to get changed before flying home.

"Tomorrow." Scarlett called after him. He couldn't be sure if it was a warning or promise. "Are your clothes dry yet?"

Vlad emerged from the bathroom. "Bit damp," he admitted as he shifted uncomfortably. "But it won't take me long to get home." He set the black bathrobe down on her sofa. "Should I ask why you have a spare man sized bathrobe? In black?" He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Oh that would be a present from Robin," Scarlett answered as she watched him fasten his cloak.

"Robin?" Vlad tried to keep his voice casual despite the sudden stab of jealousy. "A bathrobe seems like a rather familiar present. A bit personal actually."

"Are you jealous Vladimir Dracula?" Scarlett threw off her duvet and climbed out of bed. "It came with matching black towels. Robin's attempt at buying something useful. And as it turned out he was right." Scarlett reached up to entwine her arms around Vlad's neck. "Otherwise you would have been in those wet clothes all night."

Vlad slid his arms around her waist. "Then Robin has clearly gotten better at buying presents. He bought me a bottle of fake blood and some plastic fangs for my thirteenth birthday." Vlad pressed his lips against hers in a goodbye kiss. "Oh course I could think of better things to spend the night in," he whispered with a smirk against her lips. He could feel the increased warmth of Scarlett's skin against his as she blushed again.

"Vladimir Drac-!" But before she could get any further, Vlad deepened the kiss so that her tongue was occupied with matters other than scolding him.

* * *

"Much of Dolphin's theory on the link between porphyria and vampirism has been severely discredited in recent years. In the next lecture we will be focusing on the changing medical explanations for the folklore of vampirism. I strongly urge you to attend Doctor Porter's lecture series on the history of surgery as there is some overlap regarding the development of anaesthesia. Thank you." As her students filed out of the lecture room Professor Teverson flicked off the switch on the overhead projector. She jumped slightly as she became aware of two figures waiting by her lecture stand. A quick glance to the window reassured her that it was still daylight outside. "No questions after the lecture. I've got a faculty meeting. If they are urgent then email me." She snapped shut the clasps on her briefcase and glanced at the two men. One was in his late thirties, heavyset and slightly balding, the other was much younger perhaps no more than nineteen with a moustache. She didn't recognise either of them as students.

"Please excuse our intrusion," the younger man spoke first. "We were wondering if we could ask you some questions about your latest research project."

Professor Teverson froze with panic for a moment. Had Dracula sent human minions to question her? She struggled to keep her voice calm. "As I just said, I have a faculty meeting." She lifted her briefcase and gave them her best stern glare, "Furthermore I don't believe that either of you are students registered for this course. In which case you are not allowed to be in this building."

"We are from the Guild," the heavyset man spoke abruptly, his eyes keenly sweeping over her appearance. "You know which one." There was menace in his voice.

The younger man gave him an irritable look. "Professor Teverson, we have reason to believe that you are in danger. Your latest research project has brought you and this university to the attention of some very dangerous individuals. Please," his dark brown eyes were pleading, "we are trying to help."

Professor Teverson shook her head in annoyance. "I really don't understand what you are talking about. I would like both of you to leave. Do not make me call security." She straightened herself up to her tallest height and gripped her briefcase tightly.

The younger one stepped out of her way as she walked forward but he persisted in his questioning. "Is Vladimir Count one of your students?"

Professor Teverson couldn't stop herself from stiffening at the mention of that dreadful creature's name. "I do not discuss students with strangers. Confidentiality," she answered in a clipped tone.

"If he is then check out his background. It doesn't add up. We believe that you and all of your students are in the most terrible danger." The younger man pulled a card out of his pocket and set it down on the lecture stand. "When you are ready to talk, call me. We are just trying to protect you and other innocent people." He met her intimidating stare. His dark eyes were full of sincerity. "We are the good guys."

Professor Teverson watched as both men left the lecture room. Exhaling a shaky breath, she reached over and picked up the card.

* * *

Dave and Jonno walked the distance from the lecture room to their car in silence. It was only once they were in the car with the doors and windows locked that Dave spoke. He pulled a heartbeat sensor from the pocket of his jacket. "She's a liar."

Jonno glanced at the readings. "She knows something but we don't know what." He tapped the steering wheel in frustration.

Dave returned the heartbeat sensor to his pocket. "She could be working for Dracula," he suggested grimly.

Jonno shook his head. "Nah, did you see the way she glanced at the window? She was checking for daylight." He drummed his fingers thoughtfully. "Her reaction to Vladimir Count. That definitely triggered something." He grimaced impatiently. "I guess we give her a few days to mull things over, check out Dracula's story. Maybe then she will be more amendable to talking to us."

"What if she isn't?" Dave asked aggressively. "What if we are risking lives by waiting for her? She could be under Dracula's influence. We don't know how far he has gotten in locating the source."

Jonno ignited the car engine. "What else can we do?" he asked in weary resignation.

Dave stared straight ahead at the road. "Depends on how badly you want to stop Dracula."

Jonno glanced suspiciously at his slaying partner. "Spit it out Dave," he ordered.

Dave glanced at him speculatively as if he was weighing him up for a fight. "I suggest we bring her in for questioning." His voice was heavy with meaning.

* * *

Vlad had known from the contrite look on Dmitri's face that he was in for a rough time with his father. Since Dmitri had taken the blood oath he was unable to directly lie to the Count so Vlad didn't blame him for providing the information. He was also aware that Dmitri had actually done his best to downplay Vlad's non-vampiric behaviour as much as possible without directly lying. It appeared that Dmitri had withheld Robin's slayer status from the Count for which Vlad was profoundly grateful. Although he really wished Dmitri had been able to withhold the information on Vlad's alcohol consumption because that alone gained him a full fifteen minute lecture on how he should not be putting breather poisons into his body. To say that the Count was in a terrible mood would have been an understatement. Vlad's premature departure from Transylvania without any explanation was reason enough for the Count to throw a tantrum. The discovery that Esmeralda Dubois, the attempted assassin of his son and heir, had been executed quickly and quietly in private had pushed the Count into a boiling rage. He had been ranting at Vlad for at least twenty minutes now on this particular subject.

"You should have tortured her with silver. Flayed every last strand of skin off. Drenched her in garlic. Lasered her with UV light. Impaled her on argentilium spikes and waited for the dawn to finish her off. It's been centuries since I attended a good impaling. For hell's sake Vladimir if you were short of inspiration I would have been more than delighted to step in!" The Count was storming up and down the forest clearing, his long cloak whipping back and forth with his every agitated movement. "But no! The Chosen One decides to show mercy to his assassin! Mercy! She staked you! She nearly killed my son and heir!" The Count ended by roaring his wrath into the night sky. He was accompanied by flashes of lightning and ominous rolls of thunder. The Count then turned to glare at the aforementioned son and heir, his eyes burning scarlet red with anger as he pointed an accusatory finger. "Stop smiling!"

Guiltily Vlad tried to suppress his smile. He had let himself slip into daydreaming about Scarlett when his Dad had been ranting. It was an unpleasant jolt back to reality to be confronted by his snarling father. "Dad, I didn't want to execute ... her," Vlad couldn't bring himself to say the name of his former lover. He felt sick with guilt at signing the death warrant for Esmeralda. He knew he had done his best in the very difficult circumstances but it didn't make him feel any better about having her dust on his hands. "I don't want to talk about it. This is the last time we ever mention it." Vlad let the steely authority in his voice ring out past caring whether or not he angered his father. Sometimes the tension between being Count Dracula's son and also being his ruler was difficult to negotiate. He understood that Dad was concerned about his welfare and that he wanted vengeance against those who hurt his son but Vlad had patiently listened to his father's lecturing for nearly an hour. His time was up.

A flicker of hurt and resentment passed over the Count's features at his son's command. For a moment the Count clearly struggled to hold back his next words but he succeeded and managed to bow his head respectfully instead. The Count sat down on the fallen tree trunk beside Vlad. "Are you still ... healed?" the Count asked awkwardly.

For what felt like the hundredth time since the ball, Vlad unzipped his leather jacket and lifted his T-shirt to show his unblemished torso. "Honestly Dad I am perfectly fine," he said reassuringly if slightly wearily.

The Count carefully laid a cold hand on his son's chest. "How is that possible Vladdy?" he asked with a disbelieving shake of his head. "I thought..." he lifted his hand away and stared into the overhead trees. "If you were ... Well I don't think I could.."

Vlad smiled cynically at his Dad. "Wait another six hundred years for a male heir?" he quipped sarcastically.

The Count glared at him fiercely. " No," he snapped, his face clearly showing his hurt at Vlad's comment. There was a long painful silence. "I'd follow you," he said with grim determination. "Into the dust. There would be no meaning anymore." The Count stared resolutely at the trees ahead as if he was struggling to maintain control over his emotions.

Feeling ashamed of his previous remark, Vlad laid a comforting hand on his Dad's shoulder. He wasn't sure that he was capable of speaking and in any case after his Dad's shocking revelation he doubted that he could find the appropriate words. He knew that his Dad loved him in his own strange vampiric version of love. The Count placed constant pressure on him to conform to his vampiric ideals, his cries of disappointment were all too frequent and he had on more than one occasion tried to usurp Vlad's power for his own. Yet his selfish, manipulative and violent father had also done everything in his power to protect him. Hiding in the shadows, risking the scorn and wrath of his contemporaries and even stepping up to sacrifice his unlife for Vlad. But it was terrifying to hear Dad say that unlife would hold no meaning for him if Vlad was dusted. His father hadn't meant to but it felt like he had just placed another weight onto Vlad's shoulders.

"Enough!" The Count abruptly shook off his son's hand and stood up once again so that he could pace up and down the forest floor. After a long uncomfortable silence, the Count spoke again. "We still need to talk about your breather associations."

Vlad sighed in relief. This at least was familiar territory. He spread his hands out. "What breather associations?" he asked with wide eyed innocence. "Dad I'm going to a breather university, I can't help but associate with them."

"Hmm." The Count gave Vlad a look of stern disapproval. "Just don't get distracted. You are meant to be finding the source, not gallivanting with sumptuous peasants. However attractive or juicy they may be." The Count raised his eyebrows knowingly. "Don't get too attached either."

Vlad groaned in displeasure. "You can't lecture me. Do the words 'Miss McCauley' ring a bell?"

"That was different," the Count said with an arrogant swish of his cloak.

"How?" Vlad demanded.

"Because it was me," the Count answered smugly. "No seriously Vladdy you should be concentrating on finding the source. I can't condemn you for having your fun with the peasants. The devil knows I certainly indulged in the pleasures of the flesh." The Count pointedly ignored Vlad's shudder at these words. "But you are the Chosen One. You have certain responsibilities that I never had the burden of when I was your age. You have to be responsible and put the needs of your people before your own."

Vlad scowled deeply at his father's words. He chose to change the subject. "Speaking of the source, has there been any progress in investigating Dhvani's death?"

The Count frowned moodily. "It's been linked to the Blood Brotherhood. No evidence yet to suggest that there has been a leak regarding the source." He fixed Vlad with a penetrating stare. "But if the Blood Brotherhood become aware that you are in Oxford then your entire quest will become untenable. Yet another reason for you to hurry up, find the cursed thing, whatever it is and destroy it."

Vlad rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah I get it. In that case have you found a suitable replacement yet? I could really do with a vampire scholar to assist me in verifying the translations and the research trail."

"Dhvani was excellent, one of the best vampire scholars in the world. Replacing him is not easy." The Count finally stopped pacing and leant against a tree. "It doesn't help that some of the best candidates are understandably jittery about stepping into Bertrand and Dhvani's coffins." He smiled in satisfaction at how Vlad's eyes flashed black at the mention of du Fortunesa. It was very gratifying to observe that over a year later Vlad's sense of betrayal had not diminished. It gave him hope for the boy's future. "You know as much as I hated that snivelling, toadying, garlic breathing backstabber, I must admit Bertrand knew his vampire mythology. Such a pity you considered it necessary to remove him from office. With a garlic tipped argentilium stake." The Count smiled maliciously. "All the more pity that I wasn't there to witness it."

Vlad scowled fiercely at his Dad. "Don't," he said warningly through his fangs.

The Count gave him a look that could only be described as fondly amused. Vlad's guilt over murdering Bertrand was so typical of his son. "Still perhaps it was a tad short-sighted given our current dilemma?"

"After what he did?" Vlad stood up abruptly as anger coursed through him.

The Count shrugged his slim shoulders. "It was only Ingrid," he said dismissively.

Vlad's eyes blackened in fury at the memory. The dark look he cast at his Dad was so potent that the Count actually found himself stepping back. "No one hurts my sister."

* * *

The thick warm buttery goodness of the scone melted in her mouth, the sharp tang of the raspberries counterbalanced perfectly by the sweetness of the white chocolate. Charlie savoured every mouthful of the delicious raspberry and white chocolate scones that her best friend had baked. Scarlett very rarely baked only when she was in an exceptionally good mood. Charlie sipped her tea demurely before giving into her curiosity. "OK, spill!" she urged.

Scarlett set her mug down and gave Charlie a stern look. "You and Robin are in so much trouble!" The effect was somewhat ruined by her beatific smile.

Charlie attempts to give her a look of complete innocence. "No idea...?" She raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

Scarlett nodded firmly. "Vlad's a vampire. Ugh!" She picked up her mug again. "I can't believe I said that! Vampires exist! No really they exist."

"Yeah." Charlie smiled apologetically. "I should have mentioned that before now. But they are usually very rare. Before Vlad I had only ever seen about two in my whole life."

"Yeah, anything else I should know about?" Scarlett tried again to glare at her best friend but it was clear that she wasn't truly angry.

Charlie shook her head. "Seriously Scarlett if I started listing every freaky thing I've ever seen, we could be here for hours." Charlie reached for another delicious scone. "Besides you know I would never let you near someone who was dangerous. Vlad doesn't seem like a typical vampire. I've seen his aura, I know he doesn't live on human blood. Believe me that is unusual for a vampire." She held up her hands as if to fend off any further questions. "That's all I'm saying. You know I shouldn't tell you what I see in people's auras. I just wanted to let you know that if I thought for a second that he would bite you I wouldn't have kept his secret."

"I know." Scarlett gave Charlie's hand a sympathetic squeeze. "I'm sure Robin had his role to play in the secret-keeping. It's not a nice position to be in – between your boyfriend and best friend." She began giggling suddenly. "At least I know why you have been pushing so much garlic food on me recently!"

Charlie joined in with her laughter. "Just a friendly hint to Vlad." She took another bite of her scone. "One day, you have to give me the recipe for these! They are amazing. So how did you find out? Did Vlad finally come clean? Scarlett?" The look on her friend's face was alarming. It was more than Scarlett appearing spooked, she seemed genuinely frightened. "OK, what happened?"

Scarlett took a deep gulp of her tea as if to steady her nerves. "You know my dreams," she began cautiously.

Charlie nodded. She was aware that Scarlett experienced flashes of the future in her dreams. It wasn't a gift that had been bestowed on Charlie but it wasn't unheard of.

"Well, I was having a nightmare. That nightmare. You know the one with the red landscape and the light. Vlad was in it; he was the enemy. I thought that I had been able to change the nightmare before I woke up. One minute I was on fire, the next Vlad was grabbing my hand and then suddenly I was in a forest with Vlad dressed as a vampire. Oh Charlie!" Scarlett put her head into her hands. "This is going to sound so crazy. The dream wasn't just in my head. It was real. Vlad was real. Or at least he had the same dream. I don't know anymore."

Charlie exhaled slowly. "Whoa."

Scarlett nervously ran her fingers through her hair. "That's not all. He had a brooch in the dream, the Dracula coat of arms, I woke up with it in my hand." She gave Charlie a pleading look. "Have you ever heard of this?"

Charlie struggled to contain her reaction. Scarlett was freaked out enough as it was without Charlie gasping and declaring her amazement. Taking objects from dreams and transferring them into reality would require both a parallel consciousness and enormous power. It stirred some vague memories of old stories her Nana used to tell her. "I'm not sure, but I can check with my Nana. She would probably know." She reached over the table to hug Scarlett affectionately. "Don't worry. Maybe Vlad can explain it. It could be some sort of vampire thing. Nothing to do with you. "

"Yeah." Scarlett didn't sound convinced even as she returned the hug.

**Chapter 24 teaser**

_'I could have told you that a year ago.'_


	26. Chapter 24

_**Thank you so much for the reviews! They really do encourage me to keep writing. I am trying to write the one shot with Bertrand at the moment – bit tricky as I don't want to give away too much but fingers crossed I'll be able to put it up tomorrow. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading! xo **_

** Chapter 24**

The Guild's logo in shades of grey was cast against a stark white background. The name Jonathan Van Helsing along with contact details was emblazoned in burgundy red at the bottom. Father James threw the card onto the table, his face full of disgust.

Professor Teverson leant forward to retrieve the card. Father James caught her wrist in a grip of steel. "We cannot involve the Guild." His eyes were harder than she had ever seen them before.

"They are our natural allies," Professor Teverson hissed in annoyance. "They want to protect us from those blood sucking fiends."

Father James' hand tightened on her wrist making her wince in pain. "Killers are not our natural allies." He released her hand and picked up the card again. "The Order places great value on life whether it is human or supernatural."

Professor Teverson glared at him as she clutched her wrist. "The vampires are the killers. The whole point of this is to make sure Dracula doesn't take over the world and destroy humanity. We are at a loss. The research has come to a dead end. There are vampires in my college. Dracula consorts with my students every night. By doing nothing I am placing them in mortal danger. The Guild could help us," she said eagerly. "Don't you see Father, if they stake Dracula then there is no Chosen One and the vampires can't rise again."

A look of contempt settled on Father James' face. "The Guild are incapable of slaying the Chosen One." He dipped the card into the wavering flame of the candle on the table.

"What are you doing?" Professor Teverson cried in horror.

Father James held the burning card away from Professor Teverson's desperately grasping hands. "Dracula can't die." He dropped the card onto the table as it rapidly burst into flames and then pounded the smouldering embers with his fist. "You do not contact the Guild." His words were a furious command causing Professor Teverson to cower backwards in her chair. "Ever."

* * *

"So, we need to talk." Vlad's voice in the darkness caused Scarlett to jump and nearly drop her books. She turned in the direction of his voice to find him lounging against a bookcase in an unlit enclave.

Scarlett set her books down on the library desk with an annoyed thump. "You nearly scared me to death!" She pointedly flicked on the light switch. "Creeping up on me in the dark is not cool. Just remember you are already in my bad books for lying." She placed her hands on her hips. Last night, she had been distracted first by his sudden vulnerability and then by his passionate kisses but she was determined to have it out with him tonight. Just because he reciprocated her feelings, didn't mean that it was ok for him to lie to her for weeks. Or worse, in her opinion, place her best friends in a position where they had to lie to her as well.

"In that case." Vlad's voice now came from behind her. He had moved from one location to another before she even had time to blink. "I probably couldn't interest you in a flight."

Scarlett turned to face him. "A flight?" She couldn't keep the intrigue out of her voice.

Vlad flung back his cloak. "Yes. With me." He held out his hand.

Scarlett met his intense blue eyes and a thrill raced through her. "But I can't fly." She placed her hand in his.

He wrapped his fingers firmly around hers. "You can with me," he promised as he pulled her closer. Scarlett breathed in the sensual scent of his aftershave as her face pressed against his leather jacket. Vlad placed a strong arm around her waist. "Hold on tight."

* * *

As one of the oldest wine bars in the world, Gordon's was one of the few London locations that Bertrand truly relished the prospect of visiting. If vampires were to create a wine bar then Gordon's provided the perfect template. Stepping into the underground candlelit cavern with its rusting metal gates and exposed wooden beams brought back memories of a bygone age. An era where London was dirtier, rougher and an exciting place to be for a young vampire. Pity that the red liquid sloshing around in his glass was wine rather than vintage blood. Bertrand had pretended to sip the toxic liquid whilst waiting for his companion to arrive. He was aware of the speculative glances thrown his way by the breathers. For some reason they found his appearance either attractive or intriguing; whatever the reason, it would enable him to separate one from the crowd later for dinner. However, at the moment he was very much focused on controlling his temper as a fellow Blood Brother, Edwin, updated him on the latest vampire news.

"You sent Esmeralda Dubois to perform my task?" Bertrand concentrated on swirling the red wine in a clockwise direction. "The Brotherhood's lack of faith in me is disappointing."

Edwin thumped the wooden table in frustration. "Do you not understand what I just told you?" He snorted with derision. "You're clearly not as clever as they say. Dracula survived a staking! No vampire has ever done that." Forgetting that the red liquid was wine, Edwin gulped it down in his distress before gagging slightly.

Bertrand allowed the smallest curl of his lips to indicate his scorn at Edwin's actions. "Dracula is the Chosen One. It is unsurprising that he has abilities beyond that of a normal vampire." Bertrand changed the direction of the wine in his glass to anti-clockwise.

Edwin swiped his mouth with a grimace. "The thing is," he leant forward and lowered his voice, "There are factions within the Blood Brotherhood who now say we should abandon our mission. If Dracula is truly immortal then there is no prospect of success. All we are doing is risking our unlives for a fool's mission."

Bertrand leant forward a couple of inches so that he could whisper into Edwin's ear. "I could have told you that a year ago." He met Edwin's startled glance with a horribly smug smile, "But then the Blood Brotherhood wouldn't have saved me." Edwin had enough time to gasp in surprise before shattering into dust.

Bertrand returned the stake to a hidden pocket in his cape. Gently he blew the remnants of Edwin off the table and onto the floor for the breathers to trample upon. At a snap of his fingers, the wine bar sprang to life again. Bertrand hungrily cast his eyes over the crowds in the bar. Which one should he have for dinner?

* * *

The city of London glittered below, the twinkling lights obscuring the dirt and overcrowding, glass buildings ugly by daylight became sparkling diamonds in the darkness of night. The black waters of the Thames reflected the dazzling array of lights cast upon the waves. The sight was truly breathtaking and Scarlett drank in every detail as they sat in silence upon the rooftop of one of Canary Wharf's tallest buildings. Scarlett sighed heavily almost in awe at the man-made beauty before her. She remembered reading somewhere once that every city, no matter how ugly in the day, could be beautiful at night.

Prompted by her heavy sigh, Vlad cautiously asked, "Are you OK?"

Scarlett nodded decisively. Snugly warm under Vlad's heavy cloak, she rested her head against his shoulder and continued to gaze greedily at the view before her. Tower Bridge and the Tower of London glowed with warm golden light. The tip of St Paul's Cathedral was shimmering with ghostly whiteness. The bright blue of the London Eye's lights was dramatic against the dark clouds of the night sky. "It's just so beautiful." She sighed deeply again.

Vlad covered her hand almost shyly with his. "I guess I wanted you to see that having a vampire for a boyfriend may have its advantages." He didn't dare glance at her. Instead he kept his gaze focused ahead on the glittering sea of lights.

Scarlett laced her fingers with his. "You're still in trouble for lying."

"Technically I never lied, I simply withheld information. You never asked if I was a vampire. You just assumed I was a breather." He tightened his grasp on her hand. She didn't pull away but she didn't answer him either. After a few more minutes of silence, he spoke again. "I didn't want to lose you."

The raw pain in his voice tugged at Scarlett's heart. It sounded like he was finally being honest with her. "Why would you lose me?" she asked him softly, lifting her head from his shoulder so that she could look up at him.

Vlad shrugged causally. A tiny movement which gave away his defensiveness. "Because I am a vampire. A monster in most people's eyes and perhaps they are right." He glanced down at her, his eyes dark with remembered pain, "I've lost friends and lovers because of what I am. Something I never wanted to be. Something I had no choice in." He looked away again. His eyes focusing on something in the distance. "I've been happy in Oxford. You're a part of that."

Scarlett pressed her lips against his shoulder in an affectionate kiss. "You don't think much of me," she said quietly. "Vlad, I like you for you. The person that you are and the person that sometimes I think you can be."

Vlad turned his head to meet her gaze. "So you're not going to leave me?" he asked softly. Perhaps it was the mixture of shadow and brash light from the surrounding buildings but his face suddenly resembled that of a frightened and lonely little boy.

Scarlett reached up to stroke his face. Her fingers following a path she very much hoped would become familiar to her, the sweep of his dark hair across his forehead, the curve of his face, the sharpness of his cheekbones and the lush fullness of his mouth. "No Vlad, I am not," she said firmly, her gaze never wavering or breaking from his. "But you have to start being honest with me."

Vlad smiled as he nodded in reply. He leant into her touch savouring the velvet warmth of her skin against his. "Where do you want me to start?" he asked his voice husky with relief.

"Oh I don't know!" Scarlett bit her lip for a second, slightly daunted by the vastness of information and supernatural possibilities that until last night she had only vaguely been aware of. "OK, let's start simple. I know your real name so how about your real age?"

Vlad smirked knowingly at her question. "I am actually nineteen years old. No nasty shocks regarding my time on this earth."

Scarlett gave him a puzzled look. "So when did you become a vampire?"

"There are two kinds of vampire. Some of us, myself for example, are naturally born vampires, during childhood we appear similar to breathers in that we don't have powers, we have heartbeats, reflections, we can eat garlic and go out in the sun. Upon our sixteenth birthday we transform into fully fanged vampires. It's irreversible and apparently unavoidable. Then there are breathers who are converted into vampires by a bite and a mutual exchange of blood. In the vampire world they are known as half-fangs. A half fang can in theory be created at any stage in the breather lifecycle but of course the very young and the very old are considerably less likely to survive." Vlad watched her face with vigilance as he spoke, checking for any signs of disgust or fear. He could only see intrigue and intellectual interest so he continued his explanation. "I am what you jokingly referred to as a traditional vampire. We definitely wear capes!" He paused to carefully check that his cape was securely tucked around her so that she was protected from the night air. "Most vampires like gothic clothing. I don't. There are the usual powers such as flying, shape shifting into bats or wolves, creating fire and hypnosis. Depending on the vampire there are other abilities such as telepathy, the ability to become smoke, control thunder and lightning. I suppose it's like swimming or singing with breathers. However, we all have the same weaknesses. You can slay us with garlic or stakes. We burn in the sunlight. Depending on the purity, silver can harm us. And yes vampires do bite breathers and they most certainly drink their blood." He stopped at this point because this was perhaps where the romantic illusions of vampires ended. His kind were killers. Some, including his father, were infamous for their cruelty and bloodlust. It would be futile of him to try and pretend otherwise.

Scarlett had maintained eye contact with him the entire time. Now she raised her eyebrows questioningly. "They?" she repeated softly.

Still scared that she would suddenly reject him, Vlad forced himself to take the risk of reaching over to caress her neck. "I don't," he said simply. He waited for her to pull away or flinch from his touch. He desperately tried to squash the wave of hopefulness that rose inside him when she stayed still.

"Show me your fangs," Scarlett whispered, her hand still lingering on his cheek.

Vlad violently shook his head in an adamant rejection of her request. He couldn't understand why she would even ask him.

Scarlett's voice was emphatic as she repeated her request. "Show me your fangs." She gazed deeply into his mistrustful eyes.

Vlad cast his eyes downwards and away from her as he half hissed to reveal his incredibly sharp incisors. He didn't want to see the fear in her eyes. He felt the warmth of her hand move towards his mouth as if she was actually going to touch them. He quickly grabbed her hand to halt its progress. "Don't! They're sharp!" he warned her. As echoes of the shared dream resonated around them, he found the courage to meet her eyes again. Scarlett's face was full of wonder not fear. Mystified by the emotions in her eyes, Vlad's hand slipped from hers just for a moment but it was long enough for Scarlett to touch his fangs shyly with her fingertips.

His damn vulnerability would be her undoing. He looked terrified, it should have been laughable that the most powerful vampire in the world was scared of her, an ordinary nobody of a breather but the haunted look in his eyes simply tore at her heart, fierce and protective love ripped through her leaving any prospect of caution or common sense in shreds. Moving forward, she moved her lips delicately across his, irrationally worried that she would hurt him not the other way around. "I'm still here," she spoke softly against his mouth, her lips caressing him with every syllable. "I'm not scared of you Vladimir Dracula. I still want to be with you."

* * *

Staring into the amber tones of his whiskey, Father James contemplated his next course of action. Professor Teverson was right in only one respect; the research had reached a dead end. The source was in this city somewhere. Pages and pages of various drawings, planning permission notices and applications for renovations littered his desk. It may be possible to eventually track down the location but time was running out. The Grand High Vampire and the Guild were now both in Oxford searching for the source at this very moment.

Sighing deeply, Father James rubbed the glass against his forehead as if to erase his frown. Should he call in more members of the Order to protect Scarlett? If he did then would their presence alert Dracula or the Guild to her uniqueness? If he didn't then was he once again placing his niece at risk? There was no easy answer to this dilemma and yet at the present time this was only the simplest question he had to address.

* * *

The black leather of the cape slithered over dead autumn leaves on the path. It was much too long for Scarlett but Vlad had insisted that she wear it in case she felt too cold. Holding her hand in his, they strolled along Greenwich Park in the darkness with only the distant lights of Canary Wharf to guide them. Scarlett appreciated the cool breeze of the night on her face as they walked in comfortable silence. She felt a little like her head was going to implode with all the information that she suddenly had to process.

"How did you know I was the Chosen One?" Vlad asked as he suddenly came to a halt. He tugged her closer to him so that they were inches apart, almost embracing.

Scarlett felt the sting of embarrassment warm her cheeks further. "What? You mean after I missed you being a vampire? For months?" She grimaced in self-disgust at her stupidity. Talk about giving blondes a bad name! Vlad's look of gentle reprove encouraged her to continue. "After I realised you are a vampire, I made an educated guess. You are here to research the source – a myth about the destruction of vampire kind. You had already told me that you were the leader of your people. The Chosen One was mentioned in the literature as the leader of vampires. I put it all together. You didn't even blink when we discussed the Chosen One," she shook her head slightly in disbelief at his composure. "Oh and did you know if you put Vladimir Dracula and Chosen One into Google, there's a website by some organisation called the Blood Brotherhood? That seemed like just too much of a coincidence. They don't like you very much." She was slightly surprised at the hard angry look that passed over Vlad's features. "I guess that's not particularly discrete on their behalf."

"They want to assassinate me and they don't care who gets hurt or killed in the process." Vlad's voice was grim. "They object to the idea of living in peace with breathers." He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her against his body in a possessive hug. "That's why I need your help." His voice was muffled slightly as he buried his face in her hair.

Scarlett felt the first stirrings of suspicion in her mind. She pulled back slightly. "What do you mean?" she asked trying to moderate the sharpness of her voice in case he picked up on her mistrust.

Vlad's sapphire eyes were unreadable in the darkness. "To find the source," he answered eagerly. "Before the slayers or any other vampire can get their hands on it."

**Chapter 25 teaser**

_'It will be just like a Bloody Mary – only with actual blood!'_


	27. Chapter 25

_**Thank you all so much for the reviews. It's always amazing to read them and I really appreciate it when someone takes the time to submit a review. In this chapter I wanted to show that it's not just Vlad who has trust issues. **_

_**Just a heads up – I am moving this weekend so for a couple of weeks I won't have access to proper internet until my new place gets sorted. (The horror is beyond comprehension. No really, that's not sarcasm. I'm not sure I can live without internet) I'm still going to try to post chapters and review stories but I might be a bit more erratic than usual. Thanks for reading xo**_

**Chapter 25**

"Why are you being like this?" Vlad disliked the accusatory edge in his voice but he was getting increasingly frustrated at the situation. He jumped off the stone steps as the library door slammed shut behind him.

Scarlett turned her head slightly to glance back at him as she kept walking. "Being like what?" she asked irritably.

Vlad caught up with her in a few steps. Assertively he stepped in front of her to stop her walking away from the argument. "You've been off with me since last night. I know something is up. Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?" He grasped her shoulders firmly. She didn't shudder at his touch but she wouldn't look him in the eyes.

The pin pricks of fear had started from the moment she had become very quiet last night. When he left her home she had barely responded to his goodnight kiss. Vlad had accepted her mumbled excuse of being tired. After all he had been keeping her up very late at night and unlike him she couldn't sleep all day. But today she was still being evasive and standoffish. When he arrived at the library this evening, she had been in the process of packing up her things. When he asked her if she wanted to do something other than the research, she abruptly told him that she had other plans before walking off.

"Nothing's wrong." Scarlett tried to break free of his grasp but he tightened his hands so she couldn't escape. "Let go of me." Her voice was low and angry.

"Not until you tell what's wrong!" Vlad could feel his own temper fraying at the edges. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Is this about..." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. For garlic's sake she had kissed him even with his fangs lowered. Why would she suddenly change her mind?

Scarlett made an exasperated sound as she shoved at his chest. Reluctantly Vlad let go of her. "Not everything is about you and your... condition!" Scarlett stepped around him and continued walking in the direction of her lodgings.

Vlad fell into step beside her. "My condition?" he repeated her words incredulously. "I'm a vampire not a diabetic!"

Scarlett turned to face him, her eyes a blazing blue against the paleness of her complexion. "No, you're a liar. A manipulative player." She held her books tightly against her chest almost like a shield. "I thought that we were friends at least but you were just using me."

Vlad stared at her in disbelief. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Yes, he had lied to her about being a vampire but he thought they had sorted that out. Yes, he had a reputation amongst the female population but most of that really was just rumour. And he thought that they were friends. Hadn't they become friends over the course of this term? Hadn't that been one of the reasons why he had held back from making a move on her until the Halloween party? He tried to rub away the frown creasing his forehead. "Scarlett – what the hell are you talking about?" he demanded impatiently.

"Trouble in paradise?" Adam's voice came booming across the quad as a troupe of rugby players jogged in through the park entrance. He paused for a second to jog on the spot as Scarlett and Vlad glared at each other.

"Oi Forrester get a move on!" Adam rolled his eyes at Robin's order but he moved off to rejoin the rest of the team.

Scarlett looked strangely close to tears. Vlad moved forward to touch her but she brushed his hand away. "Just leave me alone." She turned rapidly on her heel and stormed off.

Robin's hand fell on Vlad's shoulder even as he moved forward to follow her. Covered in mud and wearing a college rugby kit, Robin met his friend's eyes with a sympathetic smile. "Come on mate." He gestured for Vlad to follow him.

* * *

The cold thickness of the moisturising cream was soothing against the dry heat of her skin. Her eyes felt heavy and swollen from all the crying that she had done today. Hopefully make up would cover it all up. Scarlett moved away from the mirror. She didn't want to look at herself. She hated the sight of her face. Her terrible, ugly face. As if anyone could care for someone as ugly as her. She should have known that it was too good to be true. She was such an idiot. So desperate to be loved that she believed Vlad. So pathetic that she bought his pretence of caring for her. Setting aside the whole Chosen One/most powerful vampire in the world thing, even if Vlad had genuinely been an ordinary student why out of all the girls in Oxford would he like her? He was utterly gorgeous and for the most part seemingly oblivious to the admiring glances and whispers that followed him around. Even the memory of his smile caused her heart to start skipping beats. Had she really been so delusional to think that one of the hottest guys in college would ever fancy her? And then if you added the whole 'king of the vampires' thing it became even more ridiculous!

Scarlett forced back the fresh tears that were welling up in her eyes as she pulled on the black lace shrug. It covered her upper arms hiding the new scars that she created last night. The last thing she felt like was dressing up and going out with the girls. What she really wanted to do was curl up in bed with chocolate and a hot water bottle and cry until she fell asleep. But it was Jessie's birthday and she wanted a big girls' night out to celebrate. Scarlett didn't want to let her friend down especially over a man. For goodness sake, she had a busy and full life before Vlad swooped in with his sexy aftershave and adorable laugh.

Damn! She delicately dabbed her smudged eye make up with a tissue. Why hadn't he just been honest with her? Why hadn't he just said to her that he needed her help? How could he so cruel? To pretend that he had feelings for her so that she would keep doing the research for him? That's what hurt most. If he had been a player with her, all smooth moves and flirtatious banter then she would have at least understood her position. She truly believed that Vlad had shown her a different aspect of his personality, a softer, more vulnerable side that needed to be loved. But no, it had all been a ploy to keep her working for him so that he could get some mythical source and become even more powerful.

Reaching for her red lipstick, Scarlett paused for a moment remembering how it had stained Vlad's mouth a couple of shades darker than usual when he kissed her. How he had traced the line of her lips with his finger. How hard his body had been when he pressed against her. She pulled the lid off the lipstick with considerably more force than needed. There was no point raking over the memories. Vlad had been using her so that she would do his precious research. That was the only logical explanation. Because seriously who could ever care for her?

* * *

Robin threw open the door to his room and ushered in a reluctant Vlad. The dark room smelt dank. A sliver of moonlight peeked through the half drawn curtains. Flicking on a light switch, Robin slammed the door behind them and started taking off his trainers and rugby kit. The harsh lighting revealed plates of half eaten food, piles of dirty laundry and papers strewn across the floor. Vlad removed an empty pizza box from the armchair and sat down gingerly. Gothic posters of horror films covered the walls because under college regulations Robin couldn't paint them black but everything else was black. The bed linen, the curtains, the covering for the armchair even the matching cushions which Vlad suspected were Mrs Branagh's doing. Robin didn't strike him as the sort to go cushion hunting. A rubber bat was suspended from the overhead book shelf. Vlad twanged its string playfully. It was reassuring to know that some aspects of Robin's personality hadn't changed too much over the years.

Robin looked around the messy room and gave Vlad an unashamed shrug. "Essay crisis," he offered as an explanation.

Vlad nodded in acceptance. "I should go after her," he said glumly. He leant forward and wearily rubbed his eyes with one hand.

"Nah." Robin pulled off his mud covered sweater and flung it on the pile of laundry by the bathroom door. "Trust me Vlad. When Scarlett says she wants to be left alone, she means it."

Vlad groaned in frustration. "But sometimes women mean the opposite of what they say! Leave me alone sometimes means you had better follow me and grovel. Now." He leant back in the armchair and gave the nearest pile of pizza boxes a bad tempered kick. "I don't even know why she's pissed off with me!"

Robin shrugged. "Vlad, mate the thing you have to understand about women, is that they can get mad at you for anything. Even breathing the wrong way." He made a face as he remembered his last argument with Charlie. Apparently when he had too much to drink, he snored and this justified kicking him out of her bed. Bit harsh in his opinion.

"But I don't breathe!" Vlad glowered at his friend. His eyes flashed red for a second before he reigned in his temper.

Robin chose to ignore this slip in Vlad's control. "Besides we were meant to have a pint tonight." He leant over to open the black mini-fridge beneath his desk. He tossed a bottle of soy blood and a can of beer at Vlad who caught them both easily with his vampire reflexes. "Have a drink of whatever you fancy. I'll get showered and changed. Then we'll decide whether pizza or curry for tea. Alright?" He fixed Vlad with a determined look.

Feeling slightly cheered up, Vlad gave him a small smile in return. "OK."

* * *

Peering over the rim of her glass, Tamara discreetly watched Scarlett and Charlie at the other side of the table. Scarlett seemed in a quiet mood this evening, not her usual attention seeking self and of course Charlie was fussing around her in concern. Tamara hadn't a great day herself- she had been late for her first lecture and received a low pass on her latest essay but no-one fluttered around her making sure she was ok. Ugh. She slammed her glass down on the table. Her gin and tonic felt sour on her tongue.

Her mouth twisted in contemptuous envy as she cast her eyes over Scarlett's outfit for the night. Why couldn't she just dress the same as everyone else? She hated the way Scarlett's curves made the demure 1940s dress appear sexy. Self-consciously she tugged at the neckline of her own dress. She watched a sleek curl rest against the cerise fabric of Scarlett's dress. How could a blonde have such shiny hair? And should she really be wearing red lipstick with a pink dress? But somehow it worked. Because everything always worked for Scarlett. Perfect grades. Perfect figure. Perfect life. Changing her mind, Tamara picked up her gin and tonic and gulped it down as she glowered across the table.

* * *

Droplets of water scattered into the air as Robin shook his head. Hoisting a clean pair of boxers and jeans over his hips, he tossed his towel onto the bathroom floor. He tugged a comb through his unruly dark hair before spraying on some aftershave.

Opening the bathroom door, he found Vlad poring over his art work. Leaning against the doorframe, Robin smiled as he watched the Grand High Vampire sit in his tatty armchair and look at his creations. He shook his head disbelievingly. If anyone had told him when he first arrived in Oxford as a depressed teenager that within a year he would be reunited with his vampire best friend, that he would have a super-fit girlfriend who adored him and he would be captain of the college rugby team ... for the first time in years Robin felt like life was pretty awesome.

"You never said, did Ingrid like her crown?" Robin sat down on the bed to pull on the only pair of clean socks he had left. Thankfully his mum was visiting tomorrow. Hopefully with clean laundry for him. Otherwise a trip to Primark for sock reinforcements would be necessary.

Vlad looked up from the sketchbook. "Hmm, I think so," he said grumpily. "She didn't say thank you. But she did say it was 'exquisite'. Thank you for designing it so quickly."

"No probs." Robin paused as he buttoned up his shirt to watch Vlad slowly flick through the charcoal drawings. Vlad was the first person other than his sixth form art teacher to see Robin's work. Upon viewing Robin's drawings, his old art teacher Mr Perkins had recommended that Robin see a child psychiatrist. Strangely enough after that Robin hadn't been too keen to share his artwork. Miss O'Neill, the Art teacher at his new school, had been the total opposite. He had spent many contented hours with Miss O'Neill working hard on his technique and style. She had urged him to apply for art school telling him that his talent shouldn't be wasted. Still for all Miss O'Neill's praise and encouragement, Robin never gained the confidence to show anyone else his work. Vlad had only seen it by accident. Robin had left him alone for a couple of minutes in his room when he went outside to make a phone call to his Mum. He had been furious when he returned to find Vlad looking through his sketchbook. He had been about to rip the papers out of Vlad's hand when his friend spoke. _"I thought you would have hated her. But this, Robin this is beautiful." _Vlad had tilted the sketch book so that Robin could see the drawing of Ingrid. And of course that had sparked off an entirely different conversation altogether.

Now he didn't mind Vlad looking at his art work. Frankly, he had been a little overwhelmed by Vlad's initial response. Vlad had been incredibly enthusiastic, repeatedly telling Robin that he was gifted, sounding almost envious in a way, but that was silly. For what reason did Vladimir Dracula, the Grand High Vampire and Chosen One, have to be jealous of boring, ordinary Robin Branagh? It would have been easy for Vlad to fake it but Robin knew that he was telling him the truth when a few days later Vlad asked him to create a portrait of Ingrid. No, not asked – commissioned. Vlad had insisted that he would pay Robin for the work. The half finished canvas was currently resting in a room in Vlad's mansion.

"How about we go to my place?" Vlad suggested as he leapt gracefully to his feet. He wore a pained expression as he glanced around the chaos of Robin's room. "It's tidier."

Robin smiled good-naturedly. "Alright but I get first pick on dinner." He rubbed his hands together in glee. "And I fancy curry." Vlad's exaggerated groan at his words only made Robin's grin widen.

* * *

"Charlie put that away that phone! Would you give that poor fella of yours a rest!"

At Jessie's drunken roar, Charlie held up her hands in mock defeat and put her phone back in her handbag with a smile. "What ever happened to treat them mean, keep them keen?"

"We should ask Scarlett," Ellen interjected, wobbling on her bar stool as she leant forward. "You've only managed to bag Vlad Count!" She sighed lustily. "What I wouldn't give to sink my teeth into that piece of – Ow!" Ellen rubbed her side moodily where Charlie's very pointed elbow had dug into her ribs.

"It will only work for so long," Tamara's voice rang out over the table. Nursing a gin and tonic, Tamara confidently flicked back her long dark hair. "The ice-queen act might interest him now but I don't think Vlad Count is accustomed to getting no for an answer." Venom dripped from every word as her eyes skimmed scathingly over Scarlett's figure. "And when you do say yes, well I doubt your moves will be up to much."

Scarlett shoved her bar stool back angrily and stood up as a horrified hush descended on the group of girls. "What is your problem?" she demanded. "Why would you say that? And you know what else, why did you make a move on Vlad when you knew I liked him?" It may have been weeks ago but the memory of Tamara pressed against Vlad, sliding her hand down his chest in a provocative manner, still hurt.

"Oh I'm sorry," Tamara smiled insincerely as she took a large sip of her drink. "I must have missed the sign saying property of frigid bitch." She raised her glass to her lips again but then froze when she caught the murderous look on Scarlett's face. Seconds later she was drenched with red wine. Spluttering in outrage, Tamara stumbled off her bar stool to follow Scarlett out of the bar but found herself restrained by Jessie and Ellen.

"I don't think so," Jessie said tightly, all her previous cheer and tipsiness now gone.

"Let go of me!" Tamara pulled away violently from her friends. Her eyes glistened with tears of embarrassment as she hurried towards the ladies.

* * *

Robin sloshed yet another generous measure of vodka into the red liquid. "It will be just like a Bloody Mary – only with actual blood!" he grinned confidently at Vlad who was wearing a deeply sceptical look.

"Soy blood," Vlad corrected him automatically. He looked from his glass to Robin's. "Robin, I really don't think you should try to drink this."

Robin gave him a baleful stare. "If you have your way, then this is all I will be able to drink when I'm converted." He sniffed cautiously at his vampiric cocktail. "It smells ok."

* * *

It was at times like this that Charlie was reminded of the darkness that lurked within her best friend, the despair and the rage that lay beneath her friend's outer persona. The energy of Scarlett's anger crackled in the air around them as Scarlett marched down the pavement and Charlie followed in her wake casting slightly apologetic glances at her fellow pedestrians. Catching up with her friend, Charlie resisted the urge to link arms. When Scarlett was in this sort of temper, she didn't want anyone to be near her let alone touch her.

"I wish I could go back and smack that... ugh!" Scarlett stopped speaking through gritted teeth, her shoulders slumped as her pace slackened and Charlie could feel the redness of anger rapidly fade to be replaced by intense sadness. "But she's right."

Judging by the softness of Scarlett's voice, Charlie decided it was now ok to slip her arm around her shoulders. "About what?" she asked with apprehension.

* * *

Vlad rubbed his hand in soothing circles on Robin's back as his best friend threw up in the toilet. "I knew it would never work," he said, not entirely succeeding in keeping the smugness out of his voice.

"I like it!" Dmitri said with a drunken smile as he leant against the bathroom door. "It's so much more potent this way. Better than drinking it from the source." He held up his empty glass and studied it intensely. "But it's all gone. How did that happen?"

Robin held up a hand. "High five mate!" He choked out before retching again into the toilet bowl.

Vlad slapped his hand down. A substantial 'thud' behind him indicated that Dmitri had lost his battle with gravity.

A few minutes later Robin lifted his head, his face pale and covered with a film of perspiration. "That's it! I'm never drinking vodka again," he said solemnly.

* * *

Irritably Tamara flicked her manicured nails against the blank screen of her phone as if willing it to light up with a message or a phone call. She didn't want to join the girls in the nightclub but she wanted to be asked at least. Her glass was empty and she didn't have enough money to buy another drink but she didn't want to go home either.

The sound of a glass sliding across the bar counter distracted her from her thoughts. Lifting her head, she found herself gazing into the face of one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. Unconsciously she gasped as her gaze trailed over his face, honey-coloured skin, vivid blue eyes, a mouth that technically should have been too wide but was all the more sexy for it. The rest of him didn't disappoint, dark wavy hair, tall, broad shoulders, and strangely old fashioned clothing.

When he spoke, his voice was rich and deep with layers of a European accent that she couldn't quite pinpoint. "I believe we could be of mutual assistance to each other." His lips curled into an enticing smile.

**Chapter 26 teaser**

_'Robin kept quiet, he recognised when someone was trying to build up the courage to speak.'_


	28. Chapter 26

_**Thank you so much for your reviews and the good luck for moving : ) I still don't have proper internet at the moment but it has been ordered. Counting down the days! **_

_**Bit of intense Robin and Vlad today. Miss Robin from YD so much. *sob***_

_**Warning: description of self injury in this chapter. It may be a bit too graphic for some readers but I wanted to explore how being Grand High Vampire sometimes means that Vlad has to do some unpleasant things to himself/others. **_

_**Hope you enjoy it! xo **_

**Chapter 26**

The crackle of firewood and the pleasant smell of beeswax were the first indications that he was not waking up in his own bed. A soft woollen blanket surrounded him; the clean just washed scent a pleasant change for Robin's nose. He burrowed deeply into the warm material as his eyes slowly fluttered open. It took him a couple of minutes to recognise his surroundings as Vlad's lounge. He must have fallen asleep on the comfortable sofa after he had insisted that they watch a horror film. He grimaced at the memory of the soy blood and vodka cocktails. Cautiously he lifted his head from the plump cushion and much to his relief, his head felt clear. He shifted slightly so that he could glance around the room without having to dislodge the blanket. The darkness of the sky outside indicated that it was still technically night. Vlad was sitting at his desk by the window flicking through papers in the candlelight.

For a minute Robin watched his old friend in silence. In the warm light of the flames Vlad's paleness was almost golden, the shadows darker under his eyes. His face was serious as he concentrated on the papers before him, a frown occasionally creasing his forehead. It was strange to think of Vlad as the Grand High Vampire. On one level Robin had known that Vlad must have ended up taking the position since he was the Chosen One. All these years, he had tried to imagine Vlad as a proper vampire, one with fangs instead of freckles, as someone who liked wearing a cape and sleeping in a coffin instead of the outdoor loving teenager that Vlad had once been. Technically he had known that Vlad must have grown up but all he could ever see in his mind was Vlad as a thirteen year old.

'_Robin, the crown now.' _The last words that Vlad had ever truly spoken to him had echoed in his mind for years. Alongside them was the memory of Vlad's face when he had uttered this command, a strange mixture of fear and determination etched onto a face that was much too young. Vlad's screams and the strange light that had surrounded him when he put on the Crown of Power had become a regular feature of Robin's dreams. _'Remember nothing of vampires. We do not exist'. 'Except you bloody well do and I will find you again'_ had always been Robin's defiant response before he woke up. He couldn't explain to Vlad why he had woken up the next morning with all his memories intact when others were still happily under the influence of the mind wipe. There had been too many times when he had sincerely wished that the mind wipe had worked on him because the pain of living without his best mate had just been too much to cope with.

Nearly seven years had passed between Vlad putting on that crown and Robin punching him at the college gates. Seven years in which Robin had picked up a stake as Vlad had grown fangs, when Robin had been studying for university, Vlad had been negotiating peace treaties – their lives had become so separate, so different that a new despair had touched Robin's heart. A despair that Vlad would have forgotten him, that his only best friend would have changed so much that he no longer considered Robin worth his time. Yet the strangest thing of all was that in one sense it was like they had never been separated. Despite all those years and all the changes that had occurred in both their lives, their friendship had somehow stayed alive.

The last piece of paper seemed to have really annoyed Vlad judging from the way he glared at it. As the grandfather clock chimed in the hallway, Vlad pulled a silver tray towards him. He pushed the sleeve of his jumper further up his left arm before lifting a dangerously sharp knife and bringing it to press against the whiteness of his arm. Robin watched in horror as the blade sliced through Vlad's flesh. Finally he found his voice. "Vlad! Don't! What do you think you're doing?" In panic he tried to shove off his blanket.

"Don't worry Robin; it's not what you think." Vlad pressed the blade harder into his arm and blood, so dark it was almost black, began to flow from the cut.

"It looks like you're hurting yourself!" Robin's anguish was all too plain in his voice. He was perfectly aware that even as he stood up he wouldn't be physically strong enough to wrestle the knife from Vlad's hands. It wouldn't stop him from trying.

Deftly Vlad set down the blade and replaced it with a glass vial which he held underneath the cut to catch the trickle of blood. His eyes were full of guilt and understanding when he met Robin's accusatory stare. "Sorry Robin, I didn't mean for you to witness this. I thought you were asleep." Vlad's voice was soft and apologetic.

Robin's gaze flickered to the glass vial, which was already half full with Vlad's blood and then back again to Vlad's eyes. "I thought you were..." He swallowed hard as bad memories flashed before his eyes. He focused his attention on the blackness of Vlad's blood. "So what are you doing then?"

"Bloodletting. I have to use my blood in a ceremony in the next few weeks." The cut in Vlad's arm was healing at an accelerated rate. Robin could see it closing and fading before his eyes. Within a minute Vlad's arm was returned to its previous state of unblemished whiteness. It was as if he had never cut himself. Vlad corked the vial of blood and set it down on the silver tray. "It's more efficient to collect it this way. I won't drip blood everywhere on the night."

Robin nodded but the thought of Vlad having to spill and collect his own blood for ceremonies made his stomach queasy. "It's darker than human blood." He found it difficult to drag his eyes away from the blackness of the liquid as it sloshed against the glass sides of the vial.

"Your blood is bright red because of the oxygen. My blood is dark because it is dead." Vlad pulled down the sleeve of his jumper. He turned his chair so that he could face Robin. "Are you OK?"

Robin quickly nodded but his knees were shaking slightly as he sat back down on the sofa. The thought of Vlad hurting himself was horrific. It wasn't that Robin would ever judge another person for self-harming but having been through a similar experience he just couldn't stand the thought of anyone being so hurt and lost that they saw a blade as the only answer. Least of all someone he cared deeply about. He tried to focus his mind on what Vlad had said and let his natural interest in all things vampiric divert his thoughts. "So what's the ceremony?" he asked as he wrapped the woollen blanket around his shoulders.

"It's to appoint my new guards. I'm creating a new system of vampire law enforcement. After the incident with Justice Maori I decided that it was much too dangerous to invest all that power in one office." Vlad half scowled at the memory of the sham investigation into his father's activities with breathers. "For months now, a group of select vampires have been undergoing intensive training to qualify into my service as an elite guard. The very best will be assigned to protect my family. Some will be entrusted with guarding duties and the rest will be assigned to assist the Justices in the execution of their duties. Regardless of where they are assigned, I must be assured that they are loyal to me alone. During the ceremony I will need to enter into a blood oath with each new guard."

"Cool," Robin said almost instantly. A blood oath sounded seriously vampiric. Much more exciting than the paperwork and regulation that Vlad frequently complained about.

Vlad frowned. "No, not cool," he replied abruptly. "A blood oath takes away free will. The vampire giving the oath has no choice but to obey the recipient. They are even rendered incapable of directly lying to the recipient and they forfeit their right not to be slain if they do try in any way to break the oath." Vlad glared at the vial of blood resting on the silver tray. "It's barbaric and I hate to do it but," he sighed deeply in resignation, "it is necessary."

Robin could see why Vlad was so opposed to the use of blood oaths. It would make anyone uneasy to have life or death power over another person but it was perhaps especially painful for Vlad who had fought his entire life against being forced to be something or someone he wasn't. On the other hand though, Vlad needed to be assured that his guards couldn't be corrupted otherwise he and his family would be in real danger. "So," Robin nodded towards the vial of blood, "What does it involve?"

Intense distaste flickered over Vlad's face. He made his answer as brief as possible; "I bite them, they drink my blood in return, they swear allegiance to me."

Robin couldn't hide his surprise. "Vampires bite each other?"

Vlad rolled his eyes as the answer was obvious. "Yes, of course."

Frowning, Robin asked, "But why? I mean you can't feed on each other, can you?" He curled back up on the sofa and rested his head against the softness of the cushions. It was a signal to Vlad that he was settling down for an in depth conversation.

Recognising the signal, Vlad pushed his chair further away from the table and turned his back to the papers on his desk. "Biting isn't just about drinking blood," he began to explain. "It's like kissing for breathers. Its meaning and purpose depend on the relationship between the one doing the biting and the one being bitten. Vampires don't drink each other's blood because it has no nutritional value. There isn't very much point. Biting on the other fang, well it has a multitude of meanings depending on the location of the bite." He smiled slightly as he saw the question forming on Robin's lips. "For a blood oath you bite on the lower arm. It indicates fidelity, loyalty and bonding. Biting anywhere else is generally considered a matter of affection. The neck, however, is a highly contentious area to sink your fangs into. Generally a bite on the neck is about demonstrating dominance. It is an act of violence against a fellow vampire. Even to insinuate that you are going to bite their neck is a profound insult. That's why vampires hate anyone going near their own throats." Vlad became aware that he was rubbing his fingers protectively against his own throat as he spoke.

"Awesome." Robin grinned enthusiastically. "Have you ever bitten -?" He stopped halfway through the question in embarrassment as he realised the personal nature of what he had been about to ask. He knew that Vlad had never bitten a breather because Vlad was stalwart in his determination never to drink breather blood but clearly biting between vampires was an entirely different matter. An entirely more intimate matter perhaps.

Unwittingly Vlad ran his tongue over his fangs before answering. Robin noticed not for the first how incredibly sharp they appeared. "Yes," he replied. It seemed as if he was trying to hold back a smirk as his lips twitched. "Some of my lovers rather liked it." He leant back in his chair and picked up a piece of parchment. "And some of my councillors continue to try and persuade me that some breathers would rather like it too." He grimaced at the signature on the parchment.

So that was the piece of paper that Vlad had been frowning at. Robin shrugged casually. "I bet some of us would like it." Long ago before he had seen the horrors that Ingrid and her vampire war had inflicted on Stokely, he had rather liked the thought of being bitten. Now he guessed it would depend on who was doing the biting. There was a big difference between a little nip and sip and tearing someone to shreds. His interest piqued, he decided to take the risk of asking the next question. "Did you like it?"

Vlad's eyes darkened dramatically. He abruptly turned back to his desk and pulled the next pile of paperwork towards him. Flicking through the pages much too quickly, his answer was low and fast. "Yes. Too much." He picked up his pen and began viciously scoring out sentences on the parchment.

Unsettled Robin watched him pretend to work for at least a couple of minutes. More and more questions poured into his head. Who had Vlad bitten? Had he ever bitten someone on the neck? Had anyone ever bitten him? Were they even allowed to bite him given his status as the Chosen One? And most of all what exactly did he mean by too much? Robin buried his face in the warm wool of his blanket in an attempt to stop the slow cold shiver that was creeping over his body.

"I killed her." Vlad's words were faded as if he had said the words from a distance and yet as Robin lifted his head in shock he saw that Vlad was still sitting in his chair, his back turned to Robin as he stared out of window into the greying sky.

"A vamp? By biting?" Robin cringed when he heard the horrified tone of his voice.

"No." Vlad's hand was crushing his pen into shards of metal and plastic. The ink was dripping down his fingers, the blackness reminding Robin of Vlad's blood. "I signed her death warrant."

Robin felt more perplexed by the second. "Ok," he said slowly, "You're going to have start from the beginning."

Vlad dropped the remains of the pen on the desk. Standing up, he picked up the vial of his blood and carried it over to the large wooden cabinet. He unlocked a drawer and tucked the vial of blood inside before continuing. "A former lover, the first vampire I ever bit, used the Halloween Ball to get close to me. She staked me in the heart. The next morning I signed her death warrant. I condemned her to die by staking." Vlad slammed the drawer shut as anger seeped through his composure.

"Whoa, hold on a minute, she staked you?" Robin asked disbelievingly. "Vlad you're right here. She can't have." He sat upright causing the woollen blanket to slip over his shoulders. "You would be dust." He watched as Vlad took an unnecessary breath as if to calm himself down before turning around to face him.

Vlad shook his head, a small brief movement that spoke volumes. "She staked me right in my heart. I felt it. I survived it." He leant back against the cabinet as he studied Robin's reaction. Whatever Vlad saw in his face seemed to reassure him because he spoke again. "Instead of becoming dust, I healed myself." He paused for a moment, his eyes turning black at the memory. "The surge of power..." He sighed deeply and his eyes returned to their usual brilliant blue.

"Wow." The word slipped out through Robin's lips before he had even verbalised the thought in his mind. He couldn't help it though; Vlad was so powerful that he couldn't be staked. That had to be pretty impressive even for the Chosen One.

Vlad smiled briefly in amusement at Robin's slip but the smile never quite reached his eyes. A haunted expression flitted across his face. "I trust you Robin," he said unexpectedly.

You ought to, I bloody took that truth serum, Robin thought in indignation but he kept silent as Vlad moved towards the sofa, his every step was quiet, graceful in its stealth, a far cry from the occasionally clumsy thirteen year old that Robin had once known. He shifted over a couple of inches on the sofa so that Vlad had space to sit down beside him.

Vlad's entire demeanour was uneasy as he sat down, his body tensed as if he was ready to take off at any point. He was twisting his hands anxiously. For a couple of minutes he didn't speak. Robin kept quiet, he recognised when someone was trying to build up the courage to speak.

"I am the most powerful vampire in the world." Vlad's voice was low, so low that Robin had to lean forward slightly to hear him. "The most powerful vampire that has ever existed. I am unique; there's no precedent to indicate the limits of my abilities. Do you remember how I was getting my powers early?" Vlad glanced cautiously at him.

Robin nodded in response. He remembered how Vlad had been able to produce fire at the almost anointment of his half-brother as the Dracula heir. Then there was the way he had spoken to Ingrid's reflection – his voice unnaturally deep and metallic. Not to mention how he had entered the dreamworld three years too early.

"That was just the beginning." There was a strange bitter sweetness within Vlad's tone which Robin couldn't quite understand. "Every natural vampire has a evil reflection. I had one thousand." Vlad ignored Robin's sharp intake of breath at this revelation. "With training I have been able to hone my powers. At first I had the usual limitations, I couldn't touch garlic for example, I thought I was normal, well relatively for a vampire but," Vlad's voice began to shake, "I've noticed certain discrepancies." His hands were now balled together in clenched fists.

Hesitantly, Robin placed his hand on Vlad's shoulder. Vlad turned his head to look at him, and Robin's insides grew cold at the sheer terror in Vlad's eyes.

"I am becoming more powerful," Vlad whispered, his pale face openly full of fear. "Every night I become more and more powerful. I am becoming faster and stronger. My abilities have gone beyond that of any other vampire. I know when or how it's going to stop. My weaknesses are fading, I am not like other vampires. Garlic has no effect anymore. Argentilium is becoming less potent – it barely reduces my powers." His voice was filling up with anguish. "I can't even be staked Robin. I can't be slain."

Robin gazed wordlessly at his best friend. He kept his hand on Vlad's shoulder. It wasn't much but he hoped that this one gesture would indicate to Vlad that he was steadfast, that he wouldn't be running out on him any time soon.

"I'm scared Robin." Vlad's eyes burned into his. "It feels like the darkness inside me is growing. I can feel everything that I was slipping away. Any humanity I had is fading. And I don't know how to stop it." Vlad's voice hitched as if he were close to tears. Abruptly he shook off Robin's comforting hand and stalked towards the large windows. The sky was now a light grey, the sun slowly beginning its ascend into the morning sky.

Robin had to clear his throat before he spoke. His voice felt strangely rusty as if he hadn't used it for a very long time yet it had been what a few minutes since he had last spoken? "Vlad," he began determinedly.

Without even turning around, Vlad waved an impatient hand at him. "Don't Robin," he warned him, "Don't tell me I'm still Vlad. That doesn't mean anything! You don't know what I've done. You have no idea what I am capable of. Ingrid's right. I don't drink blood but that doesn't mean I don't have it on my hands." Vlad's hand clenched around the red velvet of the curtains as he continued to watch the changing sky.

"Are you done with the self-pity?" Robin almost flinched at the harshness of his words. He steeled himself for Vlad's reaction. "I mean this whole wallowing in self-loathing, it's not you." He stood up as Vlad slowly turned around from the window with his eyes blazing red. He squared his shoulders and met Vlad's gaze with defiance. "You're not just a Dracula or some special vampire leader, you are Vlad." He stepped forward. "Vlad who saved my life more times than I can remember. Vlad, who sacrificed himself for his family. Vlad, who wants breathers and vampires to live in peace. So make it happen. Stop running away from yourself." He narrowed his eyes as Vlad snarled at him, flashing his gleaming fangs, in an unsubtle warning to back off. "Give over Vlad. As if you are ever going to bite me!" His heart pounded as Vlad strode towards him, his movements unhurried and confident, his fangs extended.

Vlad stopped a couple of inches away from him. "Don't push me breather." His voice was overlaid with metallic tones, harsher and impossibly deeper than any human sound.

Robin's could feel his temper beginning to boil over. "You're a hypocrite," he growled stepping forward so that he was the one invading Vlad's personal space. "You wanted to live as a breather. You wanted to be normal. But what did you do at Garside Grange? What did you do when you came to Oxford? You hid. You shrank away from us breathers. You withdrew into yourself. If you truly want vampires and breathers to live in peace then you have to start practising what you preach. If you want to be normal then you have to fight for it again. Just like you fought every step of the way in Stokely. Because you can do it. I know you can." To his horror, Robin could feel his voice quavering with emotion. He cleared his throat roughly in an attempt to halt the tears threatening to prickle at his eyes. He could sense Vlad's composure beginning to crack as his friend broke eye contact. "Vlad," he reached out and placed his hand once again on his friend's shoulder, "Your mistakes, your past do not define everything that you are. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone screws up. You're not the only one with blood or dust on your hands." He watched as Vlad's startled look turned into one of dawning comprehension. Robin too had done some pretty nasty things to protect his family. "You can use your power for good. You can lead by example. Breathers and vampires can live in harmony; you have proven that in the past so keep proving it. Don't give up because then you may as well be dust. As for becoming more powerful, well if it means that you are less likely to be slain then I'm in favour. And I'll be here for you. If you let me," he finished awkwardly. He was becoming acutely aware that he had finished a tirade at the High Grand Vampire.

Vlad looked dazed. "You may have a point," he said slowly.

"Yeah I do," Robin replied firmly. "So this evening, we are going to the November Fifth celebrations. We are going to watch the fireworks, enjoy the bonfire, we are going to eat candy floss and drink mulled wine and ride the funfair rides until we are sick."

A smile began to creep across Vlad's face. "Just like the other breathers," he said with renewed hope in his eyes.

Robin grinned back. "Just like the other breathers."

_**Chapter 27 teaser**_

_'A part of him wanted to roar with fury at her, smash everything in the room, even sink his fangs into her throat to show her just how evil he could be.'_


	29. Chapter 27

_**Apologies for the long gap, Internet situation was beyond a joke! However super fast broadband has been returned to me (yay!) and I will resume posting on Saturdays and Tuesdays as usual.  
**_

_**I have been desperately missing your encouraging reviews but I've been plotting away at my storylines. Just a heads up I may have to change the rating to M soon due to some of the storylines coming up - (Blame Vlad) but in the meantime I suppose this chapter should come with a warning about fluffy friskiness (again blame Vlad). Hope you enjoy it! xo  
**_

**Chapter 26**

Sunlight poured into the room through the parting in the curtains. Still bathing in the afterglow of a deep sleep, Tamara lazily stretched out her limbs. Every muscle in her body felt utterly relaxed apart from a soreness above her right breast that was almost pleasurable. Her memories from last night felt somewhat hazy and incomplete. She could only remember bit and pieces from the moment her mysterious stranger had approached her at the bar. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile as she recalled his piercing blue eyes. It wasn't very often that Tamara went to bed with a stranger and if she was honest she couldn't entirely remember whether anything had actually happened last night. She could recall the coldness of his touch, his almost mocking smile, the glint of a silver blade... She pressed her nose against the cool surface of her pillow and breathed in deeply the rich scent that lingered upon the cloth. Whatever had happened last night didn't matter. It just didn't matter.

"_I can help you destroy her."_ With reverence her fingers caressed the healing gash below her collar bone. Who knew that vengeance had the face of an angel?

* * *

The sound of gentle knocking against the lid of his coffin disturbed Vlad from his uneasy slumber. It felt like he had been asleep for barely five minutes. Trying to control the urge to snarl, Vlad clicked his fingers to open the coffin. He now understood his Dad's irritability at being disturbed during the day.

Roberts peered anxiously into his coffin. "Sorry Master Vlad," he said timidly, "But you have a visitor."

His butler looked so apologetic that Vlad almost felt bad for scowling. For a second he wondered why Dmitri wasn't dealing with the visitor. Then he remembered that his protector was probably nursing the hangover from hell. Damn Robin and his soy blood cocktails.

"She was most insistent," Roberts continued apologetically.

Vlad sat upright unnaturally fast as he caught the trace of a familiar scent. Scarlett.

* * *

The woman in the painting had a strange unearthly beauty, the milky white of her skin contrasting perfectly with the lustrious blackness of her hair and almost violet-blue of her eyes. Her full red lips were curved just slightly at the edges in a smile that was both malevolent and sensual. Her dress cascaded in waves of sparkling blackness around her, a crown glittered upon her head and in her left hand she held a sceptre decorated with skulls. The woman looked strangely familiar; the arrogant tilt of her head, the strange allure of her smile, her perfectly cut cheekbones all tugged at Scarlett's memory. The painting, even in its half finished state, was both foreboding and spectacular.

Gradually becoming aware of Vlad's presence in the room, Scarlett stepped back from admiring the portrait. "Is she your queen?" Scarlett turned to face Vlad. He hadn't bothered to announce his arrival and he moved with such silence that it was difficult to tell how long he had been standing there. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze swept over him. He was leaning against the dark wooden panelling of the wall. Dressed in dark blue tracksuit bottoms and a burgundy hoodie, with his hair messed up he looked like he had just tumbled out of bed. Coffin, she corrected herself. He looked unexpectedly boyish, at least a few years younger than the nineteen year old he was supposed to be.

Vlad studied the portrait for a few seconds before answering. "She would like to think so." His words were cutting, the youthful vulnerability of his face fading away to be replaced by a stern hardness. "My sister, Ingrid. Countess Dracula."

The hurt and suspicion from his initial words disappeared at this explanation. Turning back to the portrait, Scarlett was struck by the family resemblance. Aside from the perfect bone structure and dramatic colouring, the Draculas appeared to share a particular kind of poise and charisma. Looking at Ingrid Dracula's beauty, Scarlett could feel the old doubts creeping back into her mind. With great effort, she tried to push them away. She forced herself to face Vlad and smile brightly. "I brought you brownies." She gestured at the box on the polished side table.

Vlad's gaze didn't even flicker in the direction of the box. "Why you are here?" His voice was stony.

Scarlett could feel her smile falter. "Why are you being like this?" she asked softly. She had felt out of her depth from the second she had opened the gate to this magnificent mansion. Now faced with an obviously angry Vlad, she was resisting the temptation to run back to her room and hide under the duvet until she could face the world again.

Vlad's movements were that of a predator – slow, deliberate and effortlessly elegant as he strolled around the perimeter of the room in a deliberate effort to remain as far away from her as purpose. "Like what?" His smile was artificially flippant. "Cold? Angry? Hurtful?" He stopped at the other side of the room and glared at her. "Sounds vaguely familiar."

Scarlett sighed in exasperation. So he was trying to get back at her. Which was fair enough. Except that she had come here to apologise to him. "The brownies were intended as an apology." She kept her own voice cool and calm. Screw him if he thought she was going to act like some hysterical love struck female and beg him for his forgiveness.

Vlad raised his eyebrows at the coldness of her reply. "I'd prefer an explanation." His eyes glittered red for just a second.

Scarlett wondered whether that was an unintentional slip or a calculated reminder of his vampire powers. "So would I." She practically ground out the words as she tried to control her own temper. They glared at each other for several long minutes neither of them willing to break their staring match or the silence that hung between them laden with unspoken accusations. With each passing second, Scarlett found herself wanting more and more to run across the room, to throw herself against Vlad, to show him how furious she was by kissing him viciously hard, to feel his reassuring hardness against her... She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down. Across the room she watched Vlad's chest rising and falling as he took an unnecessary breath at almost the same time. Without meaning to, her lips curved into a smile.

Vlad smiled back. With a frustrated groan, he ran his hand through his hair, making it even messier. "This is ridiculous!" he exclaimed. In annoyance he turned to the large cabinet beside him, forcefully yanking out the drawer before retrieving a small test tube half full of a dark blue liquid. "This," he raised the glass container in the air so that she could see it more clearly, "is a truth serum. One mouthful means that for the next thirty minutes you are unable to tell a direct lie." He caught the questioning way that she raised her eyebrows. "You have entered my property. As a security measure Dmitri insists that every breather who comes to this house is tested with the truth serum to ensure that they are not secretly working for my enemies."

Outraged, Scarlett marched towards him. "You lie to me for months and now you want me to take-" The words died on her lips as Vlad raised the test tube to his mouth and carefully took a sip. A single droplet of the vivid blue spilt onto the fullness of his lower lip, Vlad's tongue flicked out to lick it up. Scarlett stared at his mouth mesmerised by this tiny sexy movement. She had experienced just a taster of what his very skilled tongue was capable of. Just the memory was enough to make her knees feel weak. Muffling a swear word, she forced her eyes away from Vlad's mouth. Rage and suspicion, she could deal with, they were familiar emotions but this desire, the way she ached for Vlad, that was entirely new and if she was honest it scared the hell out of her.

Mistaking her watchful stillness for fear, Vlad wore a look of concern as he handed over the test tube. "It won't hurt you," he said reassuringly.

Scarlett took the test tube from him, her fingers brushing against his, the coolness of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. Taking a shaky breath, she sipped the liquid contents. Surprisingly it tasted as clear and fresh as water. She handed the empty test tube back to Vlad. "So, what now?" She automatically resumed her confrontational stance finding it easier to slip back into her old habit of building up an emotional wall rather than letting someone get close.

"If you don't tell me what I've done wrong, I can't fix it. So tell me." Vlad's voice was calm and rational but his eyes were suddenly full of pleading.

Scarlett tried to harden her heart against him. When Vlad looked soft and vulnerable she felt incapable of refusing him anything. "How do I know that it works?" she asked, referring to the truth serum.

Vlad bit his lip lightly in hesitation before he spoke. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked quietly. Yesterday he had smelt the trace of fresh blood on her. He knew the answer already.

Scarlett bristled at his question, a denial swiftly rose to her lips but she found herself incapable of actually speaking. It didn't hurt, it was just as if her tongue and lips had decided they were no longer obeying any commands from her brain. She nodded crossly, feeling almost close to tears. He knew that she hated talking about this. She cast him a black look of resentment.

Vlad almost winced at the hurt expression on Scarlett's face. "Sorry," he said softly, "But you wanted proof that it worked." He forced himself to look away from her for a few seconds focusing his attention instead on the patterns carved into the ceiling. If he gazed for a moment longer on the way she pouted, then he would end up pinning her against the wall and kissing her into oblivion.

Knowing that she could ask him and that he would have to tell her the truth made her want to run away even more. All of Charlie's protestations and reassurances that Vlad was crazy about her suddenly seemed hollow. Scarlett felt nauseous with anxiety, her heart was racing and she realised from the worry on Vlad's face that he was aware of the exact timing of every thud. Strangely this thought only served to inflame her temper. Vlad had an unfair advantage when he could so easily observe his effect on her. She forced herself to meet his gaze as she spoke. "If I told you that I wouldn't help you find the source, what would you do?"

The look of surprise on Vlad's face was clear. He frowned deeply as if he was giving her question serious consideration. "I don't know," he said plainly. His voice was unusually grave. "It would place me in a very difficult situation. I believe that Professor Teverson is holding back on me. The rest of the scholars are adequate but none of them are as good as you. I haven't managed to find a replacement for my former vampire historian. I believe that the slayers are already conducting their own research. It may be only a matter of time before they trace the trail to Oxford." As his eyes burned into hers, it slowly dawned on Scarlett that they were circling each other in the same manner that two opponents would slowly dance around each other before making the initial strike. "I think I know what you are worried about. You are scared of the myths coming true, of the vengeance and cruelty that the vampire race could inflict on your own kind. But I want to lead the vampires into a new era of peace. I won't allow them to hurt breathers or anyone else. If the slayers get their hands on the source then they will kill indiscriminately."

A horrible feeling of shame burned inside Scarlett as she realised that she hadn't really considered the consequences of helping a vampire find the source but Vlad's imploring eyes forced her to refocus on the immediate situation. She would chastise herself later for being so self-centred. She struggled to find the right words to ask him outright whether he was pretending to care for her. "Is the source the reason why... You don't have to be with me to ... Why? Just why all of this?"

Despite her incoherence, Vlad seemed to understand what she was hinting at because his expression was suddenly livid with rage. Lightning and thunder crackled overhead, somehow he seemed taller, larger, more physically intimidating as he advanced towards her. "You think I would fake feelings for you?" His voice was inhumanly harsh and fangs gleamed at the corners of his mouth. Then just as swiftly, Vlad seemed to retreat into himself, his shoulders sagging as if he had been defeated. Hurt was written all over his face when he spoke. "You don't think much of me." He broke eye contact with her as if it was grieving him too much to look at her.

Scarlett recoiled as he threw her own words back at her. "No, Vlad I don't think much of me," she stumbled over her words in her haste to explain to him. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I can't understand why you would care about me." She cringed in horror as she blurted out the truth. Damn that bloody serum.

At least her words meant that Vlad raised his head to look at her again. They had stopped moving now, both frozen to the spot as they warily watched each other.

* * *

Robin viciously stabbed a stray pea on his dinner plate. His mum had promised that she was coming down alone to visit him so it had been an unpleasant shock when she had turned up this morning with Dad in tow. He had been sulking ever since. She knew they didn't get on but she kept forcing them on each other anyway. As if there was ever going to be a happy reconciliation between them.

"Captain of the rugby team eh?" Mr Branagh said with anxious joviality. He peered over his roast dinner at his youngest son. "Just the sort of healthy activity that a young man should be engaging in!"

Robin lifted his gaze from his plate just for a second to glare at his Dad. "Whatever," he said gruffly before spearing a roast potato with such violence that Mr Branagh glanced at his wife in alarm.

* * *

Vlad studied Scarlett intently as he wondered what to do next. A part of him wanted to roar with fury at her, smash everything in the room, even sink his fangs into her throat to show her just how evil he could be. Another part of him was hurting badly, it pleaded with him to stumble back into his coffin and curl up in a little ball. How could she think so little of him? How could she believe that his feelings for her were pretence? The thought of what he had said on that roof-top in Canary Wharf now made him cringe with horror. For garlic's sake he had actually asked her if she was going to leave him! How soppy and idiotic could he get? You would have thought that he had learnt from the mistakes he made with Erin. Don't let them get close. Don't let them see that you are vulnerable. Don't ever think that you can win the girl by being sweet and caring. Girls don't fall for "nice".

But her words touched a chord deep inside him. They were incredibly uncomfortable to hear. It was shocking to realise just how little Scarlett thought of herself particularly when he thought so much. Yet he empathised with her, he understood because after all he felt exactly the same way. He could understand why vampires desired him, he was the Chosen One and power was an aphrodisiac. He could understand why breathers lusted after him, somewhere deep down inside of them they were drawn to his darkness. What he couldn't understand why any of them would care for him. He couldn't understand why Scarlett cared for him but from the second she had gently pressed her lips against his fangs he had been certain that she did.

He held a tentative hand out to her. "It seems that we both don't think much of ourselves." If he had been human he would been holding his breath as he waited for her response. When she cautiously placed her hand in his, he felt a sharp stab of relief in his heart. Gently, he tugged her closer to him so that their bodies were almost touching. With his free hand, he tilted her face so that she was gazing into his eyes. "I admit that I need your help to find the source but that has nothing to do with how I feel about you."

Scarlett nodded slowly, her cheeks a blazing redness against the unusual paleness of her skin. "I know, I'm an idiot," she tried to laugh lightly but the tears glistening in her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. She raised her hand to swipe roughly at a tear which had dared to slip down her cheek.

Vlad caught her hand within his. Bending his head slightly, he pressed his lips against the teardrop on her cheek, the saltiness tasting bittersweet. "I'm not like my father. I'm not very good with poetry or romantic declarations." He released her hands as he closed the miniscule gap between their bodies savouring the way in which the heat of her body blazed through his clothing. "But I do care about you," he said quietly. He skimmed his hands over her arms, her shoulders, over her neck before gliding his fingers into her hair. Carefully he began to unpin her hair from its restrictive bun, running his fingers through the silken strands, admiring how the light reflected off the burnished gold. For weeks now, he had longed to do this, to wrap his fingers in her hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent. He let one hand trail down the length of her hair before pressing it against the small of her back to shift her body more tightly against his. "At the very least, you can't question how much I want you," he said with a wicked grin as he watched her blush deepen.

Scarlett attempted a cynical laugh. "Whatever, you're just a player." The breathlessness of her voice betrayed the effect that he was having on her. She watched in fascination as Vlad's eyes darkened in lust when she deliberately shifted against the hardness of his body.

Vlad had to bite back a moan of pleasure at her movements. His fingers gently caressed the nape of her neck as he bent his head to kiss her. "You are so beautiful," he whispered before capturing her mouth with his. He revelled in her passionate response to him, the way in which she eagerly opened her mouth to his tongue further inflaming his desire. In Satan's name, the way she tasted was unbelievable.

With a swift movement, he changed their location from standing in the middle of the room to sitting on the sofa. He smiled in amusement at Scarlett's disorientation as he lifted her into his lap. "One of the advantages of vampire speed," he whispered against her lips before pulling back to trail soft lingering kisses on her chin and jaw.

"Really? I just thought your knees were going weak," Scarlett replied cheekily. She wriggled against him as he softly chuckled against her jaw line causing ripples of cool air to shimmer across her skin.

Vlad growled in frustrated arousal at her actions and tightened his grip around her waist to hold her more securely against him. For a second, panic flashed through him that his reaction may frightened her but then she arched back her head to give him better access to her throat her fingers slipping through his hair in an effort to press his mouth closer. Unhurriedly he began his descent, running his tongue along the gentle curve of her jaw, teasing her with soft lingering kisses on the sensitive skin beneath her ear before nuzzling softly at her earlobe. He trailed a finger down the line of her throat and across her collar bone, his touch ghost-like in its gentleness. Inhaling deeply, he immersed himself in her scent appreciating the subtle trace of her morning perfume upon her skin and the hint of cocoa in the lotion that she must use. With every touch of his lips against her throat, he could feel the ebb and flow of her blood, the sensation washing over him as if the blood was gushing through his own arteries. It stirred memories of a time when he had his own heartbeat. "Vlad..." He smiled in delight at the sound of his name on her lips. He pulled back so that he could return to kissing her mouth. A shudder ran through him at the vivid red smears across the creamy skin of her throat. For a brief horrific moment, the lipstick stains looked suspiciously like blood. Suddenly a feeling of nausea washed over Vlad and he found himself struggling to breathe in air he didn't really need.

Scarlett stroked his cheek gently. "Vlad?" She followed his gaze to the vivid red marks on her throat. "Oh," her voice was soft with understanding. "It's only lipstick."

"I know!" Vlad felt bad for snapping at her as soon as the words left his mouth. He trailed his hand down the length of her throat, watching intently as the redness smeared into shades of crimson instead of rust. "I just..." his voice trailed off.

Scarlett cupped his chin, forcing him to raise his eyes from her throat. Her smile managed to be both teasing and full of sensual promise. "I guess I had better find kiss proof lipstick."

**Chapter 28 teaser**

_'He can kill without biting. I should know.'_


	30. Chapter 28

**_Thank you for all the lovely reviews! It's nice to be back properly. Hope you enjoy this chapter! xo_  
**

**Chapter 28**

"You need to wrap up nice and warm, you don't want to be catching a cold in this changing weather." Mrs Branagh knotted the scarf firmly around Robin's neck, ignoring his half-hearted protests, before standing back to admire her handiwork. "Now, you should have enough food and clean clothes for the next few weeks. Make sure to eat that chicken casserole tomorrow or it will need to be frozen. Perhaps you could share it with some of your friends. I'll get your tuxedo dry cleaned in time for the ball. I can't believe the price you were going to pay. Ridiculous what they charge down here! It really is a scandal. And ring me Robin. I don't know why you bother having that phone when you never seem to use it." She reached out to smooth down his unruly hair for the seventh time that day.

Robin ducked away. "Mum, stop being so embarrassing!" But his half smile betrayed his pleasure at her fussing.

Mr Branagh cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well Robin, it's good to see you doing so well for yourself. Keep up the good work."

Robin nodded gingerly. Actually the day hadn't been that bad. His Dad had really been making an effort. He supposed that his Mum had given him 'the talk'. His recent captaincy of the college rugby team helped of course. Finally he was living up to the Branagh family name.

"Just be careful," Mr Branagh gave a disapproving nod at Robin's cape. "You don't want to go backwards. No more of that emu nonsense with the... you know cutting and that."

Robin's eyes narrowed as he glared fiercely at his father. With a dramatic swish of his cape, he turned his back on his parents and began to stalk away from the car park. Behind him, he heard his Mum's sharply pitched "Graham!", a defiant mumble from his Dad and then his Mum's sensible shoes scraping against the cobbles. He halted and waited for his Mum to catch up with him. He refused to turn around and face his Dad again. He was fuming at his Dad's lack of sensitivity but really deep down he wasn't surprised. After all Ian and Paul's lack of emotional intelligence had to come from somewhere.

"Robin, you know what your father is like." Mrs Branagh placed an arm around her son's shoulders. "He just worries about you. He didn't mean any harm."

Robin stared down at the cobbles beneath his boots. "An emu is a type of Australian bird," he replied bitterly. "I'm not an emu. Or an emo. Or a goth. Or an attention seeker. Or a freak."

"I know dear, I know," Mrs Branagh said soothingly as she hugged him tightly. "Your father is just a little old fashioned. He doesn't understand these things." She pressed a loving kiss on his dark hair. "But he loves you Robin, he really does. Won't you at least give him a goodbye hug?"

Robin shook his head stubbornly before trying to suppress guilt at the sound of his mother's sorrowful sigh. He knew that the rift between him and his Dad was a source of constant anxiety for his Mum. But it wasn't as if he hadn't tried.

"Alright." Mrs Branagh gave her son one final hug before breaking contact. "Well at least that cape is lovely and warm. Make sure to ring me tomorrow and let me know about the fireworks. And don't forget to eat or freeze that chicken casserole by tomorrow evening. I don't want you saying my cooking gave you food poisoning."

Robin lifted his gaze from the cobbles and smiled at his Mum "Thanks," he said softly.

* * *

Using his considerable bulk Dmitri blocked the door to the lounge. "You need to train," he repeated his previous words to Vlad with persistent calmness.

"Tomorrow." Vlad replied with considerably less patience.

Dmitri obstinately shook his head. "No, Your Highness, not tomorrow. Tonight. You haven't trained since the Halloween Ball. It is more important than ever that your skills are sharply honed. And," he gave Vlad a pious look, "may I remind Your Highness, it is at your bequest that I remind of your training obligations."

"It is now my bequest that you get out of my way," Vlad said nastily, snapping his fingers at Dmitri to move aside.

Dmitri declined his head respectfully. "Very well, Your Highness."

Vlad glanced at him suspiciously but Dmitri's features were smooth with complacency. There was no indication that he was mocking him. "I'm going to the Guy Fawkes celebrations this evening. There will be lots of noise and light. Are you able to perform your duties? "Vlad's voice softened slightly as he took in Dmitri's frown. "I am happy to excuse you." The effect of breather toxins was much more potent on other vampires. It seemed that this was yet another exception for the Chosen One.

Dmitri hesitated for the most fleeting of moments before shaking his head. "No Your Highness, I will do my duty."

Vlad shrugged. "OK, but if you do feel the need to urgently leave to, oh lets say, work on a new training regime for me, then you are excused." He gave Dmitri a cheeky wink as he sauntered off to the blonde breather waiting in the lounge.

In return, Dmitri gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. The Chosen One's mood swings could really be quite tiring.

* * *

The warm red liquid tasted of spices, it was frankly the most delicious alcohol that Vlad had tasted to date. He drained his paper cup much too quickly before crumpling it in his hand. He glanced around for a bin. Dropping it on the ground wasn't an option. He had seen the way Scarlett glared at litter droppers. He could have flamed it but there were too many breathers around. He slipped it into the pocket of his jacket instead.

"Fancy another one?" Robin shoved his paper cup at him.

Vlad guessed that after the disastrous soy blood cocktails, drinking anything red and alcoholic had temporarily lost its appeal. He grinned enthusiastically. "Definitely." He took the paper cup from Robin as they began to walk up the hill for a better view of the fireworks.

"Alright?" Charlie joined them, slipping her arm through Robin's, only fumbling slightly around the edges of the cape he was wearing.

"Yeah, suppose." Robin's voice was gloomy but he smiled back at her in a way that Vlad took as a serious hint to leave.

Quickening his stride, he caught up with the rest of the group which was being led by Scarlett through the crowds. Finding a suitable location, she impatiently ushered everyone along into the space. He could sense her annoyance at trying to herd so many people along. Unfortunately it was the sort of situation where someone had to be bossy and Charlie was preoccupied with Robin who seemed to be feeling down after a visit from his parents. Vlad edged through the other students until he stood beside Scarlett. He sipped his mulled wine and cautiously reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. He could have sworn his heart thudded when she looked up at him and smiled.

Truthfully, he wasn't very comfortable with public displays of affection. It wasn't fitting for his role as Grand High Vampire to show feelings. Perhaps, more pressingly, he disliked the way that everyone else in the group seemed to be watching them. Hand holding would have to suffice for now but later, Vlad couldn't help grinning, yes later he could kiss Scarlett to his heart's content.

* * *

Light exploded across the velvet darkness of the night sky, droplets of fire scattering in a blaze of colours before softly fading away. Despite the glorious sight of fireworks exploding overhead, his eyes remained focused on Vlad Dracula.

Look at him, he thought bitterly, that should be me. Surrounded by people, laughing, acting like Mr Popular. He should be the one attending university. Having fun with his mates. Not a cold-blooded killer like Vlad. And was he-? Yes, he was. He really was holding the hand of the petite blonde. The Grand High Vampire holding hands with a breather. It would have been laughable if it hadn't been so disgusting. He had warned her.

His hand tightened on the stake in his jacket as he observed the swish of a cape. Following the line of black leather material, he found himself gazing at a familiar face. Branagh! Bile rose in his throat as he watched Vlad's laughter and the way Branagh swatted his arm good naturedly. Robin Branagh, of all people in the world, Robin Branagh... he knew. Branagh had witnessed the damage that vampires could inflict on the world. They had trained together. They had slayed together. He had been the one to teach Branagh how to use a crossbow. Now after everything that he had seen and done, he was just standing there laughing with Vlad like none of it mattered.

Well it bloody did matter._ Their_ deaths mattered.

* * *

Tears streamed down Scarlett's face as she clung to Vlad's leather jacket. Her entire body was shaking with laughter bordering on hysteria. Vlad seemed only marginally more stable than her as they very slowly walked down the steps.

"That was awesome!" Robin leaped down the steps, his cloak fanning elegantly around his frame. "Let's go again!"

Vlad's grasp on her arms tightened at Robin's words. For some reason this brought on another fit of giggles. Together, with a painful thump, they sat on the bottom step of the fairground ride. Jessie rushed past them looking rather green. Scarlett pressed her face against the cool leather of Vlad's jacket as she desperately tried to stop giggling. It didn't help when Vlad began to laugh with her.

"That was nothing like a waltz!" He pressed his lips against her hair for a moment.

Robin rolled his eyes at them. "People, you're pathetic! Come on! We still have to do the Twist, the Orbiter and the Dodgems!" He was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

Charlie sank down onto the step beside Scarlett and Vlad. With a groan, she folded her arms and set her head down on her knees. "I think I'm going to be sick," she moaned.

Robin gave her a perplexed look. "It wasn't that bad." He glanced back up at the cars which were once again spinning manically around the moving floor. "I'll take you on the Ferris wheel afterwards," he smiled coaxingly.

Charlie mumbled something into her folded arms. It wasn't a particularly flattering description of her boyfriend.

Scarlett took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself down. "Why don't you and Vlad go off together? I'll stay here and look after Charlie." This was punctured by only the occasional giggle.

"Great plan!" Robin grabbed Vlad's arm. "Come on Vlad, the Orbiter is just about to start!"

Vlad cast Scarlett a dark look over his shoulder as he was dragged off by Robin. "I'll get you for this," he said solemnly.

It was all Scarlett needed to burst into laughter again.

* * *

Turning her head in the direction of the boisterous laughter, Professor Teverson found herself frozen to the spot as she recognised the young men. Horror swept over her as she watched Robin Branagh and Vladimir Dracula stumble off the fairground ride. She gasped in revulsion as she noticed the cloak swishing around Robin's body. Had he turned him? Had that evil creature harmed Robin?

How could she let this happen? Robin was one of her most vulnerable students. Given his psychiatric history of drug use and suicide, she had always been extra careful to keep an eye on his progress. Academic and welfare. He had flourished in the Oxford environment, one of the success stories, an example of how someone could really turn their life around. Moreover he was such a lovely boy underneath all that gruff and gothic clothing.

"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. MUMMY! MUM-" Benjamin, her five year old son tugged aggressively at her hand.

"Yes, dear," she replied automatically before glancing down at him. His big dark eyes were full of excitement, his mouth sticky from drinking Coca Cola, his woolly hat slightly askew. And she knew with sudden clarity that this situation was all wrong. Elizabeth Branagh once held the hand of her little boy and wiped sugar from his dirty hands. Now that same boy was in the company of a serial killer and she, as a mother, was just standing by and doing nothing. She was letting another woman's child quite literally walk into the jaws of death. It was wrong. It was immoral. No matter what Father James said, this couldn't be the right course of action.

* * *

"Ugh!" Scarlett pulled a face at tasting the takeaway tea. She didn't know why she always did this. She knew that the tea was probably going to be vile. Some hot water with a hint of a tea bag and drowned in lukewarm full fat milk. No matter what food van you got tea from, it was the same. It was almost like a conspiracy amongst food vans to completely sabotage the tea drinking of their customers.

Charlie sighed deeply and breathed in the steam rising from the paper cup. "I know. We'll make a decent pot when we get back." Using the dangling string, she attempted to strengthen her tea by twirling the tea bag around in the milky water. The string snapped. "Damn," she said dolefully.

Scarlett peered into the paper cup. "You could always use a pen as a spoon?" she suggested doubtfully. Glancing up, she shrank back suddenly as a vaguely familiar figure strode towards them. The young man from outside the church, the one who had told her Vlad's real name, was approaching them with a look of grim determination on his face.

Scarlett fought the urge to grab Charlie's hand and hurry back into the crowds. Whoever he was, he had information on Vlad. That had to be important. But if he grabbed her again then she wouldn't be responsible for her actions. When he reached a distance of just a few feet away, she held up a hand to indicate that he shouldn't come any closer.

He stood still. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said impatiently. "I'm trying to help you."

"Yeah, well stay there. I don't like strangers trying to grab me," Scarlett said warningly.

Charlie linked her arm through Scarlett's. "He's a slayer," she whispered into her friend's ear.

"I saw you with Dracula." The young man continued speaking. It was clear that he was trying to control his temper as every word was edged with anger. "I warned you that he was dangerous. You know what he is." He cast a meaningful look at Charlie by her side.

Charlie spoke up. "I know too." She studied the slayer with wariness. Some slayers were unkindly disposed to all supernatural beings, not just the ones who bit.

"Who are you?" Scarlett stepped back when the young man moved forward. "No, I said stay back!" Her voice was edged with alarm. A couple of passersby cast them nervous glances.

The slayer held up his hands. "Just a domestic! Had a bit too much of the mulled wine," he laughed loudly. This seemed to satisfy the crowds who continued moving around them. He met Scarlett's fierce glare with a matching one of his own. "The real question is who is this?" He took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out at arm's length. "Go on, take it," he urged. "Take it and see the true face of Vlad Dracula."

Apprehensively, Scarlett reached out to take the piece of paper from his hand. It was thicker than writing paper. Unfolding it, Scarlett realised that it was a photograph. A pretty young woman smiled at the camera. It seemed to have caught her mid laugh as her eyes sparkled and her lips parted slightly. Fluffy blonde hair, vividly blue eyes, cheekbones to die for – she was extraordinarily pretty. Scarlett looked up at the young man, the pain on his face was unmistakable. "Who is she?" Her voice was gentle now.

He sniffed in a visible effort to hold back the tears forming in his eyes. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Was," he corrected her harshly. "She was Erin Noble. A former slayer. And Vlad's ex-girlfriend."

Scarlett felt like she had been hit in the stomach. She stared down at the photograph. Vlad's ex. Oh he had many, of that she had no doubt but it was different to see a face. To know that this girl had once kissed and cuddled Vlad. She was so pretty. Far prettier than Scarlett could ever be. "Oh," she murmured. "I see."

"No you don't," the slayer's tone was verging on ruthless. "He made her miserable. He broke her heart. She found out that he had been cheating on her and then she disappeared." He met Scarlett's sharply inquisitive gaze. "Yes, disappeared. Completely vanished. No trace of her. No sightings. No internet trail. No usage of her bank cards. No one has seen her since that night." His voice broke slightly. "And we haven't found her body." He snatched the photograph away from Scarlett and cradled it in his hands as if it was most the precious thing in the world. "She crossed Dracula and he murdered her."

The noise and light began to whirl around Scarlett as her stomach heaved. Charlie grabbed her shoulders in an effort to hold her steady. "He doesn't drink human blood." Scarlett's words came out in a desperate whisper.

The slayer snorted in derision. "He can kill without biting. I should know." The bitterness in his voice revealed the depths of his pain. "He killed my father without even lifting a fang."

Charlie's fingers tightened around her friend's shoulders as she read the slayer's aura and saw his rage, grief and pain. It was completely genuine. This wasn't an act. His words were the truth.

"What the hell do you think you are playing at?" A tall, muscled man came out of nowhere and grabbed the slayer by the scruff of his collar. His face was red and spittle came out of his mouth as he roared at the younger man. Without any further words, he began dragging the slayer away. Charlie let go of Scarlett and darted forward but the young man shook his head in a warning not to follow. Within seconds the two men were consumed by the people milling around.

* * *

The world was a kaleidoscope of colour and noise. It was like being drunk but without the nasty after effects. His sides were actually aching from laughing too much. The repeated collisions jarred every bone in his body but he threw back his head and roared with even more laugher as Robin growled obscenities and gave chase to the driver who had just bumped them. Robin had serious road rage issues. He didn't really understand the name of this ride –Dodgems – an odd choice since everyone, especially Robin, seemed determined to crash their cars into one another.

A flicker of movement amongst the spectators caught his attention. Turning his head, he caught a glimpse of a darkly cloaked man. A haunting image of piercing blue eyes and a sardonic smile. Another crash flung him forwards in the car. Frantically he glanced back at the spectators but the man was gone. Recklessly, Vlad flew out of the car and landed lightly on the grass. His eyes darted through the crowds searching for the man that he had just seen. It was impossible. It had to be impossible. He killed him. He took a deep gulp of the air, searching through the components for a particular scent. Particles of a lightly spiced aftershave lingered upon the night breeze. Vlad's eyes turned black at the memories.

"Vlad, what the –" Robin grabbed his arm. The ride had ended, the klaxon was blaring, people were hurrying out of the cars just as the next group of customers surged forward. Vlad slowly turned to face his best friend, a mixture of shock and horror etched upon his features.

"Vlad?" Robin's voice was tinged with anxiety.

Vlad swallowed hard before speaking. "Bertrand's back."

**Chapter 29 teaser**

_'A well known voice, full of malicious glee, rippled across the sudden silence.'_


	31. Chapter 29

_**Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm afraid I have no idea how long this story is going to be. It's definitely not going to finish in the next couple of chapters that much I can tell you. I have an overall plot in place and various storylines yet to be completed so I just hope that you will be patient with me and keep reading : )  
**_

_**Warning: some swearwords in this chapter.  
**_

_**Hope you enjoy this one! xo**_

**Chapter 29**

Robin almost stumbled over a discarded food tray in his haste to catch up with Vlad. His friend was by his side instantly, catching him roughly by the collar of his cloak. Resentfully, Robin broke free of his hold. "Aren't you at least going to tell me what's going on?" he demanded crossly. He had never seen Vlad like this. His face was ash-grey with shock yet anger, rich and potent, flowed through him. It was clear that Vlad was struggling to keep his fangs retracted and his eyes were black with fury.

"I told you, Bertrand is back," Vlad snapped impatiently.

"Well, that's great!" Robin threw his hands in the air theatrically. "That's cleared everything up. No more questions from me. Like who the blood and garlic Bertrand is! No, don't bother mate, I completely understand."

Vlad growled bad-temperedly. "In the name of the Impaler, would you shut up!" He resumed his stalking in the direction of the food-vans.

Robin found himself practically jogging by Vlad's side in an effort to keep up. "Not a chance." He grabbed Vlad's arm in an attempt to halt his friend. He barely flinched when Vlad hissed and bared his fangs despite the crowds. "Vlad! Tell me!"

Vlad stopped again. He took a couple of deep breaths before answering him. "Bertrand du Fortunesa was my tutor and trusted advisor. Until he committed a terrible betrayal and I removed him from his place of office with a garlic and argentilium stake. Was that detailed enough for you?" Vlad raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Robin couldn't help the shudder that ran through his body. A garlic and argentilium stake was one of the most excruciating ways for a vampire to die. The argentilium stripped away the vampire's healing powers as the garlic and silver alloy began to dissolve the flesh. The process could take hours, days even if the vampire was particularly powerful. It was a horrifically sadistic way to slay a vampire. Vlad had done that to another person...

"Don't look at me like that," Vlad snarled the words. "You have no idea what he did."

Robin gulped down a deep breath of air in an effort to control his revulsion. He released the air in a slow steady hiss before replying to his friend. "You're right. I don't know the whole story." He fixed Vlad with a meaningful look that said he intended to hear the full version if not now then later.

"Right now, we need to find Charlie and Scarlett and get the hell out of here." Vlad grabbed Robin's cloak and began half-pulling, half dragging him along. "Bertrand has an unfortunate habit of using the people I care about to hurt me."

* * *

The wind whipped through his hair as he gracefully landed on the leaf covered ground. For a brief moment, Bertrand lifted his face to the breeze's caress before shaking out his cloak and striding forward into the forest. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he recalled the glint of recognition in the Chosen One's eyes. Ah, his former protégée would be panicking right now, his mind racing to remember every detail of that fateful night in Paris, analysing and calculating the improbable - that Bertrand du Fortunesa had survived.

The irony of it all was not lost on Bertrand. If Vlad had demonstrated his usual mercy and simply staked him then he would have been dust. Vlad's decision to use argentilium and garlic, his impulse for revenge, had resulted in Bertrand surviving. He wondered when the younger vampire would realise this cruel truth. It would be a bitter realisation for the young vampire who tried so hard to exercise control over his darker impulses.

The longing to be by the Chosen One's side again was a physical ache within his body. Images and memories of the glorious past were burned into his mind. Did Vlad ever toss in his coffin unable to sleep out of guilt at what he had done? Did Vlad ever pick up a book on vampire law and remember Bertrand's advice? He had been the Chosen One's most faithful and devoted servant. There had been a time when the Dracula boy had looked at him with respect and admiration in those sapphire eyes. Bertrand was determined that he would regain his rightful position no matter whose blood or dust he had to spill.

Oh but the midnight blackness of the Chosen One's eyes when he caught his scent... A callous smile stretched across Bertrand's lips as he contemplated the future. Taunting Vladimir Dracula with the darkness of his past would be perhaps the most pleasurable aspect of his return.

* * *

Scarlett and Charlie were huddled together at the other side of the food vans. Charlie had her arm around Scarlett, their heads close together, the darkness of Charlie's curls juxtaposed against Scarlett's gleaming gold. As soon as Scarlett lifted her face Vlad knew something was badly wrong. Scarlett looked visibly upset and Charlie was shooting him daggers. However both seemed unscathed and there was no scent of Bertrand in the air. He could only hope that this was a 'girl' thing. Perhaps he and Robin had spent too long on the rides. In any case right now he was just grateful that they were both ok. He wished that he had been a harsher master with Dmitri so that the girls had some form of protection. Halfway through the fireworks, his protector had retired ostensibly to review Vlad's training regime. Vlad didn't give a damn about his own protection, it wasn't like he was going to die from staking any time soon, but that wasn't how Bertrand liked to play.

Without even thinking about it, he roughly pulled Scarlett away from Charlie and into his arms. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he held her as close as he could, pressing his lips against her hair, taking deep breaths of her scent and sighing with relief as he felt her heart thudding against his chest.

Abruptly, he pulled back. "We need to leave." Inwardly he cringed at how autocratic he sounded. He could feel rather than see how Charlie bristled at his words.

Robin interceded before his girlfriend could let her tongue loose on Vlad's presumptuous manner. "What Vlad meant to say is party at his place!" He grinned excitedly. "Come on, sleepover at a mansion, all you can drink alcohol and maybe we could order some curry."

Charlie sighed in exasperation as she was temporarily sidetracked. "Curry? For the fourth night in a row!" Then she placed her hands on her hips and glared first at Vlad, then at Robin and then back again at Vlad. "I have some questions for you."

Vlad shrugged dismissively. "Fine, whatever. Lets just get back to my place." He released Scarlett from his embrace and reached for her hand instead. Scarlett stepped back away from his touch. Vlad's eyes narrowed as Charlie protectively placed an arm around her best friend and glared at him. He glanced questioningly at Robin who gave him a hapless shrug as if to say how should I know?

A hint of musky perfume drifted along in the breeze. Distracted, Vlad's eyes flickered black again and his fangs dropped down. He hissed in warning as he spun around to face the oncoming vampires. A female silhouette illuminated by the red light of the bonfire emerged from the darkness.

A well known voice, full of malicious glee, rippled across the sudden silence. "The Chosen One surrounded by breathers and slayers." Ingrid's red lips arched into a wicked smile. "Some things never change."

* * *

Dave didn't waste any time with niceties as he roughly shoved Jonno into the car. Jonno had the foresight to quickly tuck his feet in before Dave slammed the car door. Within seconds, he was revving up the car engine. He couldn't quite trust himself to speak without using an obscenity for every second word. He fumed in silence as they slowly drove down the crowded streets. Beside him Jonno pulled his hoodie over his face and curled up into a little ball.

What the hell – Jonathan van Helsing was a top slayer! One of the best in the world and yet he had disclosed potentially incriminating evidence to a civilian? Something was going on here and Dave was determined to find out what. He suppressed the urge to shout and bluster at Jonno. It was exceedingly difficult given how furious Dave felt right at this moment but he knew that maintaining a cold silence was more effective. People hated silence; they felt this terrible need to fill it.

"I know I messed up."

Jonno's words were so quiet that Dave had to strain his ears to hear them. A predictable starter. He said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road ahead and changing gears.

Jonno pushed back his hoodie. "I said I know I messed up." His words were louder verging on aggressive.

"Hmm." Dave inwardly smirked at how quickly Jonno had cracked. The younger slayer was clearly agitated about something.

Jonno sighed deeply, shifting in his seat so that he could stare out of the side window. "I couldn't let another one get hurt."

Dave's gaze flickered to the red figures indicating the time on the car radio. He held the silence for just the right amount of time for Jonno to get past irritation and start feeling anxious. "I don't understand you." He paused, letting Jonno consider his words. "You jeopardise an entire mission for a bit of skirt?" He shook his head in disgust. False accusations were one of the best means of obtaining information. They generated an irresistible urge to defend yourself.

"Shut up, you don't know anything!" Jonno snapped.

If it wasn't for the ragged pain in his voice, Dave would have taunted him for sounding just like any other stroppy teenager. As it was, he merely raised his eyebrows and continued to drive in silence. It wasn't until they were pulling up into the driveway of the Guild headquarters that Jonno spoke again.

"Vlad had a human for a girlfriend once." Jonno was staring down at a piece of folded paper in his hands.

"Ugh." Dave grimaced. The thought of humans and vampires being romantically linked was abhorrent. Unwittingly, he pressed a hand to his stomach.

"Yeah, I know right," Jonno nodded in agreement. "She was a sweet kid though. Really believed in the Chosen One's ideas about peace and equality. It didn't last of course. She found out Vlad was doing the dirty on her -vamps eh? She disappeared soon afterwards. I mean really disappeared. I have reason to believe that Vlad murdered her. She was no longer convenient to him." The bitterness in Jonno's voice indicated that his interest in this girl had been more than professional.

Dave slowly turned the ignition key to switch the car engine off. Without its soothing hum the silence between the two slaying partners was even more oppressive.

"He killed my parents."

Dave's head turned sharply at these words. He knew that Eric and Mina van Helsing had both died at the fangs of vampires. Sadly, that was nothing unusual. A slayer's life was often short and dangerous. If he remembered correctly Eric van Helsing had been set on by a group of vampires in Stokely. Mina's death in Budapest had been much more hush-hush with rumours that the Chosen One had personally staked the vampire involved in an attempt to stop the peace treaty from being shattered.

"Don't believe the official records," Jonno exhaled a shaky breath. "They don't even tell half the story. If Vlad hadn't mind wiped my Dad, he would have been able to defend himself against those vampires. He, Vlad I mean, said sorry, you know, several times. I even thought he meant it. Mum never did. She was determined to get revenge for Dad's death. I thought she was spoiling everything. I accused her of being unable to let go of the past. She was right though. By the time I realised what the vampires were up to it was too late. I arrived too late to stop him." Jonno's voice began to crack. "He was holding her, covered in her blood, fangs out and still he denied it!" Jonno thumped the dashboard of the car in a fit of rage as tears streamed down his face." Murdering bastard!" He turned to Dave with pleading eyes. "I didn't save any of them. I let them all down. If I could have saved just one of them... if I could just save one person from that monster. Just one person!"

There was a quiet click of a seat belt being released before Dave reached over and put his arm around Jonno's shoulders.

* * *

Watching the two Dracula siblings glare fiercely at each other was strangely enthralling. They were both so alike and yet so different. The air was full of uneasy tension and old rivalries that Scarlett couldn't quite understand. Ingrid, or should she call her Countess Dracula, was even more beautiful in the flesh although the magnificent painting had certainly captured her stunning looks. She exuded sensuality and power with every feline movement of her body. She was walking, no prowling would be a more suitable word, around Vlad in a manner that was probably intended to be intimidating.

Vlad seemed completely unfazed by her actions but his hands were balled up into fists in his pockets. Every line of his face was somehow harsher, his voice slightly deeper as he spoke, "You shouldn't be here."

Ingrid raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Neither should you." She leant over to whisper something into Vlad's ear before breaking into an evil laugh and turning her attention to the three mortals standing behind her brother. Her eyes glowed red as she stared disbelievingly at Robin. "Branagh," she hissed with such loathing that Scarlett flinched on Robin's behalf.

The recipient of this hatred, Robin, didn't even blink. "Ingrid," he replied coldly.

Ingrid retracted her fangs with a decisive snap as Vlad laid a menacing hand on her shoulder. "Back off Ingrid." The warning in Vlad's voice was clear.

Ingrid shot Robin a venomous look as she stepped away. Vlad's hand returned to the pocket of his leather jacket. "Go back to my place of residence. Don't argue with me," he said firmly as a retort formed upon Ingrid's lips. "I'll be back there shortly. We have much to discuss." There was a sinister edge to his words that made Scarlett shiver.

Ingrid's eyes were red sparks in the dim light as she watched Robin. "Indeed." With swooshing and blurred movements, the visiting vampires disappeared into the night sky.

* * *

Benjamin's foot was hanging over the edge of the bed, his sock partially dangling off his toes. Tenderly, Professor Teverson slipped the sock over his heel and around his ankle. Tugging the duvet over him, she stopped for a moment to breathe his sweet babyish smell. After bath time, he always smelt like talcum powder and bubble bath. She smoothed his hair away from his face, he was getting big so quickly, soon he wouldn't want cuddles with his mummy, it wouldn't be "cool".

Her heart clenched with the pain of how much she loved him, her darling little boy, she would do anything to keep him safe. She had always been flippant about those old adages about a mother's love. Then she had given birth to Benjamin and suddenly she understood.

For months now she had followed Father James' instructions believing that what she was doing was necessary to protect the world from vampirekind. Now, however she saw the truth. The Order was prepared to sit back and watch as vampires killed. The Guild on the other hand was ready to stake them. Looking down at her sleeping son, Professor Teverson knew whose side she was on.

* * *

"Now is not the time to be an iTwat!" Charlie scolded Robin as she attempted to swipe the phone from his hands. Robin simply moved so that he was out of her reach and continued flicking through photos on his iPhone. Charlie sighed in annoyance. She turned her attention to Scarlett who was curled up in her armchair and eating her way through a large bag of minstrels. "Chocolate is not the answer."

Scarlett deliberately took another handful. "Yes, it is."

Charlie gave her another disapproving look before picking up her mug of tea. Robin tried to suppress his smile at Charlie's actions. His girlfriend could be such a mother hen. It was one of the reasons why he loved her so much.

He was glad to be back in the safety and warmth of Scarlett's room. At his insistence they had returned to Winterville rather than going back to Vlad's place. The arrival of Ingrid and her cronies changed everything. There was no way Robin was exposing Charlie and Scarlett to the risks posed by Ingrid. It had taken at least a few minutes of tense conversation to convince Vlad that it would be safer for them in college. As a vampire household, no invitation was necessary to enter Vlad's residence. Their college rooms however counted as private property therefore no vampire could enter without permission from the occupant.

Finally he found the photo that he had been looking for. He held his iPhone out so that the girls could see the image clearly. "Is this the man who spoke to you?"

Both girls nodded. "He said that Vlad killed his father. And his ex-girlfriend." Charlie's hazel eyes were pleading as she looked at Robin.

He could tell what she was thinking. How could you do this Robin? How could you expose us to the risk of a killer? You promised he was different from the rest of his kind. Robin looked away from his girlfriend to Scarlett who looked like she was on the verge of crying. Anger spurted through him. "Tell me you don't believe him," he scowled at them both.

"Well he is a..." Charlie started the sentence but found herself unable to complete it as Robin's dark eyes flashed with furious disbelief.

"A vampire?" Robin spat the words out. His lip curled in contempt as he glanced from Charlie to Scarlett. "Have you any idea what he's been through?" Robin demanded, his voice becoming dangerously cold, "Any idea at all? Vlad was thirteen when he found out that he was the Chosen One – the most powerful vampire ever to exist. Vlad didn't even want to be a vampire! He was searching for a way to get out of it, he didn't want to be evil, he wanted to be normal, he wanted to play rugby, go camping and have a tan! Imagine finding out at thirteen that you have to be the ruler of your own people, that you have to save an entire race from extinction. He lost his childhood, he became an assassination target, he had to take on responsibility that no teenager should have the burden of." Robin watched as sympathy flooded Scarlett's eyes and as Charlie's cheeks turned red with shame. "This," he lifted his phone again, "is Jonathan van Helsing. Or Jonno as I used to know him. He is a slayer. Vlad didn't kill his father, I should know, I was there, I saw him being torn apart by vampires. All Vlad has ever done is try to protect the people he cares about."

Scarlett uncurled slightly. "What about Erin Noble?" she asked softly. "I don't believe he killed her but did he cheat on her?" She stared down miserably into the empty bag of minstrels. "I don't want to be with someone who is going to cheat."

Robin gave her a stern look. "Don't you think you should hear Vlad's side of the story before you start judging?"

* * *

They had sat in the car for nearly an hour, with Dave's arm around Jonno's shoulders as the younger slayer struggled to regain control over his emotions. Dave's silent bulk was somehow reassuring. He felt solid, real, immovable. All of which were pretty important to Jonno right now.

"Sorry about that." Jonno tucked the photo of Erin back into his jacket pocket. He gave Dave a slightly embarrassed smile.

Dave shrugged his massive shoulders. "Happens to us all." He lifted his heavy arm from around Jonno's shoulders. He took a breath as if to continue speaking then evidently thought better of it as he shook his head and closed his mouth.

"What?" Jonno asked cautiously. Was Dave going to report his misdemeanour? Was he going to advise Jonno that this mission was just too personal for him? He couldn't bear that. He wanted to destroy Dracula, this mission was the key to doing that. He had to avenge the deaths of his parents and Erin.

Dave sighed heavily. "You're not going to like what I'm going to say," he warned.

This only made Jonno feel more anxious. "I don't care, tell me." Hastily he fumbled with his own seat belt. As if he had any real chance of stopping Dave from entering the headquarters and making a phone call to Loewe.

"Alright." Dave licked his lips uneasily. "It seems to me that you have more reason than any of us on this mission to slay Dracula. Sure, we would all love the glory of taking out the Chosen One but for you, it's something different, it's revenge. I get where you are coming from, believe me I do, but ..." Dave groaned. "Nah, forget it." He opened the car door.

Jonno grabbed his arm. "No, say it!"

Dave frowned as he gazed intently into Jonno's face. "You don't seem to want it enough."

His words were quietly spoken but no less devastating. Jonno gasped in disbelief. "How can you say that?" he demanded, the hurt plainly displayed on his face.

Dave shrugged apologetically. "Because you say you want to bring down Dracula but what exactly are you prepared to do? You want us to wait around for some stuck up teacher to realise the truth? If you truly want to get Dracula then you have to stop playing by the rules. This is a time of war, these are mitigating circumstances. The whole world is in danger from vampires in a way that it never was before. We need to do whatever it takes to stop Dracula."

Dave's voice was afire with a passion that Jonno had never seen before. It called to the cold fury inside him. Wasn't that what he always swore to himself? That he would do whatever it took to bring Dracula down. Each time he stood in the shadows and watched Vlad Dracula's happiness, he vowed he would destroy him by whatever means necessary. But up until now, he had been playing by the rules, he had refused to hurt or sacrifice others to gain ground. Perhaps Dave was right, these were unique circumstances. He thought of his mother and father – his Mum would have done anything to avenge his Dad's murder – he had let them both down when he chose to believe Vlad's lies.

Dave was mumbling an apology and slowly getting out of the car. Jonno caught his sleeve again. He nodded assertively as Dave gave him a questioning look. "Whatever it takes," he repeated fervently.

**Chapter 30 teaser**

_'Ah how he had fallen from grace...'_


	32. Chapter 30

_**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! : ) The next two chapters consist of flashbacks exploring Bertrand and Vlad's relationship. The flashbacks are in italics and the current events in normal text. Warning - we are going to see a much nastier side of Vlad.  
**_

_**Originally I intended this to be one chapter but it was just ridiculously long! So now it's split into two chapters. I would like to post them close together so unless anyone has any objections I would like to post Chapter 31 on Thursday instead of Saturday. I know my posts have been a little irregular recently so if any readers are not happy with me posting on Thursday please do let me know.**_

_**And I've just smashed through the 100,000 words marker – eeeek!**_

_**Hope you enjoy this! xo**_

**Chapter 30**

With a snap of his fingers, a circle of fire sprang up and surrounded the cloaked figures in the forest. Bertrand du Fortunesa let his gaze slowly drift from one shadowed face to another. Members of the Blood Brotherhood – scoundrels, trophy hunters, supposed rebels – all of them inadequate, all of them worthless blood bags in comparison to the Dracula boy. Ah how he had fallen from grace...

* * *

_The candles glowed with a strange dark flame that was more green than yellow. The unusual light cast foreboding shadows around the school hall. Bertrand wondered briefly if the curious fire was an extension of Vladimir Dracula's powers; the Chosen One only seemed to grow more powerful each night. Refining his extraordinary abilities was proving to be quite the privilege. _

_Vlad stood in front of the fireplace, the strangely coloured flames framing his profile, making his complexion paler than ever and his eyes glitter darkly like broken pieces of coal. Ingrid stood to his right side, an indication of her importance as his second in command. The Count as ever stood on the other side of Vlad, his arms half folded, one hand pressed against his mouth as if he were trying to stop himself from speaking. Bertrand's position mere inches behind Ingrid was considered unduly elevated by the attending clans. He was aware of their contemplative glances and he proudly held his head high knowing that soon any one of them would munch on garlic for his status. _

_The scene before them was unprecedented. Lord Holmwood along with several other vampires stood before the Chosen One in fangcuffs. Amongst them was Magda Westerna, the Chosen One's very own mother. The attempted overthrow of the Draculas before the Chosen One's eighteenth had been defeated. However it was tonight which would prove the toughest challenge yet to the Dracula fledging. He had to deal out punishment to the miscreants. All the vampire clans were waiting, watching and in some instances plotting. Any sign of weakness by the uncrowned Grand High Vampire would be used against him. He had to assert his authority, demonstrate that he was capable of crushing his enemies with the ruthlessness that was so desperately required by the role._

_The Chosen One knew this. He knew that the Barrack clan saw this as a test; if Vladimir Dracula showed mercy to these vampires then perhaps he would not use their dark secrets against them. He knew that Ramanga had been plotting against him; lenient treatment would more or less grant him permission to go ahead with his plans. He knew that the Slayers Guild needed reassurance that he was capable of reining in the excesses of vampirekind. Above all, he knew that vampires were uneasy about his intentions towards breathers, if he wanted to bring about peace between the two then he had to be prepared to enforce it. Under vampire law there was only one punishment that he could mete out to Lord Holmwood and his accomplices – ritual staking._

_Justice Volkodlak was reading out the charges in an overly theatrical intone. The Chosen One held up a hand to silence him. "We all know what the charges are. We all know the penalty." He descended down upon the condemned vampires, his gaze focusing on Lord Holmwood. "Treason against the Grand High Vampire cannot be tolerated."_

_The normally debonair Lord Holmwood tossed back his golden mane of tangled hair. "How can it be treason when you are false?" he sneered haughtily._

_Vlad raised his hand and curled his fingers into a fist. Lord Holmwood fell to his knees screaming in pain. Only when dark blood began to seep out of Lord Holmwood's mouth did Vlad uncurl his fingers thus releasing the prisoner from his torment. Lord Holmwood shakily scrambled to his feet. "Your own mother does not believe that you are the rightful successor," he spat out, panting from the exertion of just speaking. _

_Everyone immediately glanced in the direction of Magda Westerna. "Vladimir darling," she began in her customary drawl, her huge eyes full of contrition, her mouth pouting seductively. As if sweet little Vladdy would ever hurt her. _

"_Silence," Vlad snarled. This single word echoed throughout the hall as the walls and floors shook and lightning flashed overhead. Bertrand almost closed his eyes in pleasure at the grittiness of Vlad's voice. Magda immediately pressed her lips together, her complexion whitening with fear at the expression upon her son's face. The Count pressed his fingers ever harder against his own lips as if trying to suppress the urge to speak out on behalf of his former partner. Ingrid just smirked. _

_With a snap of his fingers Vlad freed Lord Holmwood from the fang cuffs. "I should stake every member of your clan for this dishonour." He stalked towards the older vampire maintaining eye contact with every step, clear pools of sapphire blue against glints of manic redness. _

_Lord Holmwood shook his dirty head. "You wouldn't Draculoser," he half-growled in a attempt at defiance. He broke eye contact with Vlad to glance anxiously at his son and heir Arthur Holmwood who stood trembling a few feet away, also in fangcuffs._

_Vlad grabbed a fistful of Lord Holmwood's hair and forced the older vampire down onto his knees in a kneeling position. With a violent pull, Vlad exposed his victim's pale throat to the world. "Wouldn't I?" Vlad hissed softly into Lord Holmwood's ear. There was a collective gasp as the Chosen One with deliberate slowness sank his fangs into Lord Holmwood's neck. To be bitten on the neck was the highest humiliation that a vampire could endure and to do it so publicly! Vladimir Dracula's cruelty towards his enemies was indeed ruthless. Several of the vampires there found themselves clutching their own necks in sympathy. Vlad straightened up, dark blood staining his mouth as he stared menacingly around the hall. To Bertrand, he had never looked so magnificent. Vlad let go of Lord Holmwood's hair causing the defeated vampire to collapse whimpering onto the floor. "Lady Sarah Holmwood." _

_At this command, a beautiful blonde vampiress stepped forward from amongst the clan members. She curtsied deeply before Vlad. "Your Highness," she murmured with just the right amount of deference and awe. _

_Vlad's face was stony. "You shall be anointed as the true heiress and daughter to the Holmwood bloodline. Witness the fate of your father and brother and know that if you ever cross me," Vlad ran his tongue across his bloody fangs and gave her a sinister smile, it was more effective than finishing the threat. A collective shudder ran through every vampire present._

_Lady Sarah Holmwood exchanged a triumphant look with Ingrid before smiling demurely at Vlad. "It will be my pleasure to obey you as the true and only Chosen One." She curtsied again and retreated back to her former place amongst the other clan members. _

_Imperiously, Vlad held out his hand. He didn't even glance at Bertrand as his tutor placed an ornately decorated stake into his unresisting fingers. There was an unnatural stillness about the Chosen One as he stared down at Lord Holmwood. For a second, some vampires present began to wonder if the Dracula boy, for all his bluster, would actually go through with it. Then Vlad began to speak as he raised the stake in the air. "I am Vladimir Dracula, the Chosen One. Let this be a demonstration of what will happen to those who defy me." He brought the stake down._

* * *

_Later when the dust had been swept up and most of the clan leaders had departed, it was Bertrand who Vlad called to his side. Bertrand, not his father or Ingrid his supposed second in command. When he entered Vlad's room, the younger vampire was standing by the window, gazing out at the slowly rising sun. Bertrand delicately stepped around Vlad's cape which had been discarded carelessly on the floor. Sometimes the Chosen One could be so untidy; Bertrand intensely disliked mess. _

_Vlad's leather jacket was undone now, his hair ruffled as if he had been running his hands through it. When he turned to Bertrand, his eyes were large and dark against the paleness of his skin. "Did I do it right?" The words were barely a whisper._

_Bertrand grinned proudly, he stepped forward to give Vlad a congratulatory slap on the back. "You were superb," he enthused. _

_Vlad's mouth twisted slightly at Bertrand's words. On closer inspection, Bertrand could see that his face was tearstained. Tiny patterns of frost where tears had slipped down Vlad's cheeks. Since when did vampire tears freeze? Since when did vampires cry for that matter? He loathed this side of Vladimir Dracula, the goodness that dwelled inside that unbeating heart. When he saw the light in those beautiful sapphire eyes, he wanted to crush it, destroy it, he wanted the future Grand High Vampire to be consumed by the darkness and evil inside him. The Chosen One was beyond intoxicating when he was channelling his dark side. Tonight's compelling performance was proof of that._

_Vlad was gripping the curtain tightly with one hand. "That was necessary?" It was a question of course. It had been Bertrand's advice that Vlad had been following when he had bitten and humiliated Lord Holmwood. _

_Bertrand nodded assertively. His arm slipped around Vlad's shoulders reassuringly. "Completely necessary," he said firmly. He met Vlad's gaze with harsh determination. After a very long pause, the younger vampire slowly nodded in agreement. _

_With his free hand Bertrand tugged the curtain from Vlad's grip and pulled the material across the window before the sunlight could endanger the two vampires. He released his grip on Vlad and the younger vampire seemed to almost stumble with tiredness when lacking Bertrand's support. _

_Bertrand cocked his head to one side and smiled suddenly. "Lady Holmwood is on her way to thank you." He could hear the female vampire's footsteps on the stairs to the Dracula's private quarters._

_Vlad looked at Bertrand in horror. "No!" he said his voice full of dismay. "I don't want that. I don't to rule like that. I have no right..." His revulsion at having carnal knowledge of the vampiress whose father he had just bitten and staked was obvious. _

_Inwardly, Bertrand screamed in contempt. There it was again – that damned goodness! It had been getting easier since Erin's departure to corrupt Vlad, to twist the younger vampire's mind, to make him question the humanity that he was so desperate to cling to. Without Erin's moderating influence, Bertrand could see Vlad slipping further and further into the darkness. He would make Vlad see sense, he would make Vlad realise that breathers were nothing more than food and he would make Vlad forget his ridiculous notions of peace and equality between vampires and their snacks!_

_Outwardly, Bertrand gave Vlad a paternal smile. Gently, his strong, cold fingers reached up to stroke the sharp line of Vlad's cheekbone. The Dracula boy had been getting thinner since Erin's departure, the pale skin was almost translucent beneath Bertrand's finger tips. "Vlad, don't you see it yet?" he crooned. "She is yours for the taking. The entire world is yours for the taking. Everything is rightfully yours." _

* * *

Vlad found Ingrid waiting for him in the lounge room. His sister had certainly made herself at home. She was curled up on the sofa, a glass of blood in one hand and a copy of Winterville's guide for students in the other. Ryan sat on the floor gazing into the dancing flames of the fire. The half fang rarely ever left Ingrid's side. Overhead, Vlad could hear the scuttling and giggling of Ingrid's vampette followers. He wondered why his sister always had to travel with an entourage.

Ingrid glanced up from her reading. "Ah the Chosen One has finally decided to grace me with his presence." She swatted Ryan on the head with the guide. "Go. My brother and I need privacy."

Immediately the half fang leapt to his feet, he carefully kept his gaze averted from the Grand High Vampire even as Vlad held the door open for his departure. "Do you always have to be so nasty to him?" Vlad shut the door firmly behind him and moved into the room.

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "What? Nastier than casting him out into the cold heartless world simply because of who he is related to?"

Vlad chose to ignore her goading. He snatched the glass from her fingers before she could stop him and suspiciously sniffed it. Thankfully it was soy. Tonight was the sort of evening where he wasn't sure he had the willpower to resist the real stuff. Ingrid smiled patronisingly at him as he handed the glass back. Vlad turned his back on her and walked towards the fireplace. He leant against the warm marble, spreading his fingers out against the hotness of the flames. "Why are you here?"

"Hmm. Good question." Ingrid tapped her finger thoughtfully against her red lips as she pretended to ponder the answer. "Oh yes," she gave him an artificially bright smile. "To find an ancient source of power, prevent vampirekind from being wiped out and achieve world domination. Don't we have so much in common?"

Vlad scowled. "You are supposed to be in Australia by now. I thought you realised the importance of your role as my ambassador." He caressed the flames within the fireplace, watching as the red hot fire curled around his fingers. All he could feel was a strange heat around his hand, like placing it into a bathtub of warm water. Yet another traditional weakness was fading away. He withdrew his hand before Ingrid could notice his invulnerability to fire. He turned to face her. "Perhaps you are here to find the source before I do. So that you can try and overthrow me. Again." He deliberately filled his voice with boredom but when he smiled at her, his fangs had dropped down in a warning.

Ingrid burst out laughing. "Oh Vlad!" She pressed her hand daintily against her mouth as if trying to suppress her evil cackling. "You really must stop dwelling in the past. Please, I've seen the amount of paperwork that you do as Grand High Vampire." She waved the Winterville guide at him. "I was just curious. It's only natural to be concerned when my little brother disappears for weeks on end."

"There's nothing natural about your concern for me." Vlad resisted the urge to snatch the guide out of her hand. It would only prove to her that she was succeeding in her attempts to get through to him.

Ingrid sat upright, her eyes flashing red. "There's nothing natural about you associating with a slayer." She slammed the guide down onto the floor. "Please tell me you noticed that Branagh is a slayer. That he hasn't managed to slip it past you like Erin."

Vlad couldn't help scowling at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. Ingrid knew how upset he had been when he found out about Erin's previous occupation. "Yes, Robin has trained as a slayer. It appears that a rabid vampiress was trying to take over Stokely and he wanted to protect his family." His retort had a visible impact on Ingrid. He watched her sigh sulkily and lean back against the sofa. She shrugged her shoulders dismissively as to say whatever. Ingrid liked being reminded about Stokely just as much as Vlad liked being reminded of Erin.

Vlad took a deep breath. "You have to go," he said firmly. It wasn't an order, not yet, but they both knew he could make it one.

A look of hurt flashed across Ingrid's face before she could hide it. "Why?" she asked in a dangerously silky voice.

Vlad knew that particular tone all too well. It was the one she used just before she twisted the knife even further into your back but that wasn't the reason why he bit his lip before speaking hesitantly. "I think Bertrand is in Oxford."

* * *

_The last of the sun's rays lingered upon the horizon, the vivid pink staining the edges of low hanging clouds. The night lamps of households began to glow as darkness spread over the city of Budapest. The streets below still bustled with people, tourists seeking out new experiences, working people trying to get home or heading out for the evening. In certain streets there were small groups of people dressed in grey military clothing carrying stakes and guns; they were running, shoving rudely past those who stood in the way and shouting orders at each other. If anyone had thought to look up into the night sky they would have observed a trio of dark streaks soaring against the brightness of the emerging stars._

_Ingrid's solitary scream echoed painfully in Vlad's head as images of violence exploded across his mind. Gritting his fangs, Vlad focused on maintaining his flight and attempted to push the vision backwards into his mind. Hearing Ingrid scream like that was torturous. It only served to increase his wrath, the fury burned through his cold veins causing him to speed ever faster through the air to his destination. The images continued to flicker across his mind like a television in the background._

_Reaching the abandoned factory, Vlad didn't hesitate to smash through the first relevant window that he came to. Landing gracefully on his feet in a crouching position, he assessed his surroundings swiftly. Only his sharp intake of breath gave any indication of the horrific scene before him. Ingrid lay semi-conscious on the dusty wooden floor, an arrow protruding from her left shoulder. A few feet away Mina van Helsing lay in a pool of blood, gasping for air, a crossbow slipping from her weakening fingers. Vlad waved his hand and the cross bow shot across the floor far away from Mina's hands. Trying not to get distracted by the delicious scent of slayer blood, Vlad knelt beside his sister. Ingrid was rapidly losing consciousness, her eyes were fluttering closed. Vlad had to force himself to try and remain calm. Blind panic was threatening to overwhelm him, the heavy scent of blood in the air didn't help, he could feel his dark reflections unfurling inside him, almost as if they were awakened by just the presence of slayer blood. _

_Thankfully the arrow had missed Ingrid's heart but only by a few inches. On closer examination the arrow was argentilium rather than wood. Vlad snarled angrily; garlic tipped argentilium was one of the most cruel methods of slaying, it was tantamount to torture. Someone had dared to do this to his sister! _

_If the arrow had been wooden then Vlad would have left its removal to one of his physicians. A wooden arrow would certainly be painful but it wouldn't be life threatening. However a garlic and argentilium arrow needed to be removed immediately, every second it was in Ingrid's body it was slowly killing her. Vlad wrapped his fingers around the sturdy arrow, the garlic coating made his hand tingle unpleasantly but he no longer burned at the touch of garlic, even it seemed when argentilium should have been weakening him. Placing his other hand on Ingrid's shoulder, he carefully pulled the arrow out of Ingrid's disintegrating flesh. Barely on the cusp of consciousness, Ingrid let out a small whimper, a sound that ripped through Vlad's heart. His sister, the beautiful, treacherous Ingrid Dracula, did not whimper. _

_The thud of boots and swishing of capes by the broken window indicated that the Count and Ryan had finally caught up with Vlad. Ryan was instantly by Ingrid's side, his distress at his mistress' injury plainly displayed on his face as he took her hand and watched Vlad perform the delicate task of extracting the arrowhead. _

_Vlad stood up, the arrow still in his grasp, to find the Count slowly advancing on the dying slayer a few feet away. Vlad's roar of displeasure made the Count spin around defensively and hold up his hands in mock surrender. "Vladdy, we can share!"_

_Vlad watched with disgust as his Dad licked his lips hungrily. "Prioritise your daughter," he snapped. The manic look in his son's eyes was all the convincing that the Count needed to rush to Ingrid's side. _

_Vlad gestured for the Count to carry Ingrid. Although Ryan was younger, he was still only a half fang. The Count was stronger and faster. Ryan gently lifted Ingrid into the Count's waiting arms. Count Dracula wore a strange look upon his face as he gazed down upon his injured daughter. Vlad found himself desperately searching his father's face for some indication of tenderness or affection but the Count was too practised in hiding his true emotions. _

_How he could not love her? She was Ingrid. _

_Vlad fought to exercise control over his own emotions as he barked orders at his Dad. "Get her back to the Mahr residence. Make sure she gets the best treatment. I want her undead and well." There was no need to command Ryan – the half fang would do anything for his beloved Ingrid. As the two vampires rapidly departed through the shattered window, Vlad turned his attention to Mina van Helsing. _

* * *

**Chapter 31 teaser**

_'That was the problem with feelings, you couldn't reason with them...'_


	33. Chapter 31

_**Best of luck/congratulations to A-level students today. I hope you guys got everything you wanted and needed!**_

_**Thank you so much for the reviews. Great to hear that you enjoyed the last chapter : ) No more posts from me until Tuesday now so I hope you that you think today is worth it – more flashbacks, more nasty Vlad and more Bertrandiness!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 31**

For several long minutes, there was no sound in the lounge other than the crackle of the firewood being devoured in the fireplace. Ingrid's face was greying with shock, her fingers tightening around her glass of blood until finally the brittle material shattered in her hand.

* * *

_The scent of blood was threatening to overpower Vlad's senses, his throat was burning with thirst, his fangs ached with the sheer longing to plunge into flesh. At the same time he felt sick with self-loathing. A woman lay dying and his overwhelming urge was to feed on her not help her. It took every ounce of his self-control to approach the dying slayer, to kneel down beside her in a pool of her blood and take her hand gently in his. He fought desperately against his more animalistic urges to ignore how he was covered in blood. Not just any blood but slayer blood – the very best blood to dine upon. _

_Mina's dark eyes were blank as she gazed up at Vlad. He instantly recognised the signs of hypnotism. Her throat was completely ravaged, the vampire who had done this had been brutal. Judging from the amount of blood lost it was too late to convert her in an attempt to salvage some form of life. Not that Mina would have wanted that anyway. There was nothing Vlad could do except try to ease the pain of her dying moments. He cupped her face with one hand, his eyes turning green as he spoke in a low soothing voice. "Everything is going to be fine. You are not in any pain. It doesn't hurt anymore. You're just going to have a rest." He knew it was working from the way Mina's body suddenly relaxed, he could sense the pain flowing away. He could hear the slayers crashing through the doors of the factory a couple of floors below but he stayed where he was. He watched as Mina's eyes slowly closed, he heard the slowing of her heart beat, he held her hand and kept speaking to her in a soft voice right up until the final movement of her heart. He felt that this was very least he could do given the circumstances behind her biting. When she was finally gone, Vlad swept his hand over her face to close her eyes._

_Jonno burst into the room accompanied by five other slayers. Vlad rose slowly to his feet, he knew that this looked bad, he was covered in Mina's blood, he had been kneeling by her side and she had been bitten. Upon seeing his mother's body, a terrible scream was torn from Jonno's mouth. "Mum!" Instantly he ran forward and raised his gun to shoot UV light at Vlad. The assumption of guilt was virtually automatic, Jonno hadn't even paused to question the scene before his eyes. Vlad had to admit that hurt. Even if Jonno had been suspicious, he should have noticed that Vlad's mouth and fangs were devoid of blood. _

_All hell broke loose, a flurry of arrows, stakes and UV light flew from the slayers towards Vlad giving him no time to explain what had actually happened. With a swirl of his cloak, Vlad transformed into a bat and made his escape. The peace treaty with the Guild was probably in ruins after this incident. _

* * *

Eventually Ingrid spoke, "You're lying." Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper.

Vlad shook his head slowly. He fought the temptation to avert his eyes from his sister's accusatory glare. His failure to protect her still haunted him.

Rage was seeping through Ingrid's shock. With a scream she hurled the remains of the broken glass at her brother, "You said you staked him!"

* * *

_Bertrand du Fortunesa was running for his unlife. His plans had gone slightly ... awry. It appeared that he had been successful in destroying the peace treaty between vampires and slayers. Rumours were spreading throughout the vampire world that the Guild had declared outright war despite the Chosen One's attempts to renegotiate. Bertrand had always known Mina van Helsing's obsession with avenging her husband would prove useful to him. It had been all too easy to lure her to that abandoned factory. That's what happened when you let your emotions overrule you – you became easy prey._

_Alas there was the unfortunate complication of Ingrid's survival. Perhaps he should have been more delicate when tearing out Mina's throat then she wouldn't have missed such an easy shot but her blood had been so incredibly delicious. It had been far too long since he last sank his fangs into a slayer. Vlad's petty rules over biting had been immensely frustrating to live under. Had. The failure of this plot meant it was extremely unlikely that Bertrand would be residing with the Draculas in the near future. _

_Oh Vladimir Dracula! Curse the Chosen One's ability to have visions. It was partly Bertrand's fault for training him so damn well. It didn't matter that he hadn't stayed to stake Ingrid himself. His momentary lapse of weakness, the pinprick of sentiment that had prevented him from driving a stake into his rival and sometimes lover's heart, didn't matter. Vlad had seen everything in his vision. How he had drugged and kidnapped Ingrid. How he had lured Mina to the abandoned factory. How he, not Ingrid, had sank his fangs into Mina's neck. Bertrand knew this because Vlad had told him. The Chosen One's voice had thundered through his mind. One simple statement: 'I know everything.' It had been glorious to hear the bloodthirstiness in his protégée's voice. To experience the pain that Vlad could inflict telepathically. Oh yes, he had trained him well. And so from that moment, Bertrand had taken flight._

* * *

Vlad hung his head guiltily as he listened to Ingrid vent her rage. No one else would ever have dared to speak to him the way she was doing now but he felt that he deserved it for putting her through this anguish.

"How could he have survived?" Out of all the questions Ingrid threw at him, this was the one that stuck in Vlad's mind. He had guessed the answer already, the truth tasted bitter in his mouth. Bertrand had only survived because Vlad had allowed his lust for vengeance to dominate him.

* * *

_What you had to understand about Vladimir Dracula was that he had one deadly flaw; his love for his family. The Chosen One loved his sister. So much, it probably hurt deep inside. That was the problem with feelings, you couldn't reason with them and you couldn't negotiate with them. Bertrand had expected some form of punishment for his betrayal but he hadn't expected this. Vlad hadn't sent the Justices after him or the slayers. No, instead the Grand High Vampire had elected for the most terrifying force possible to hunt Bertrand down - himself. _

_The most powerful vampire in the world was pursuing him with murderous intent. Bertrand knew he had been lucky to manage a night and a half on the run. Now on the rooftops of Paris, the Grand High Vampire was closing in. As unpalatable as the thought was, Bertrand was beginning to contemplate throwing himself on Vlad's mercy. Cold-blooded rational arguments for his actions would not assuage Vlad's sense of righteous anger but surely an appeal to sentiment would work? After all Vlad's heartstrings had always been easy to pull._

_A dawning awareness that he was no longer alone on the roof led Bertrand to slowly turn around. Vlad stood on the edge of the building, his cloak billowing around him in the wind, his eyes glittering red, the rage twisting his handsome features. He had never looked more fitting of his title as 'the Chosen One' than he did now. The younger vampire hadn't made a single sound to indicate his arrival but now that Bertrand knew he was close, he could feel the dark power emanating from his protégée. The air was alive with electricity, it crackled along Bertrand's skin, it tugged at the matching darkness deep within him. _

_He waited for what seemed forever and yet Vlad didn't speak. The longer the silence between them continued the more torn Bertrand became. He wanted to justify his actions. Vlad had too much power for one so young. He couldn't understand that the path he had been taking was wrong. Bertrand was his most faithful servant of all, it was just that Vlad didn't understand yet what was best for him. At the same time he wanted to keep running, his instincts were screaming that Vlad was dangerous. He couldn't believe that though, not really, the teenage boy that he had tutored, trained and advised over the years hated to shed blood or dust. _

_He could see no trace of that boy in the vampire before him. He swallowed hard as he saw the gleaming stake in Vlad's hand. The Chosen One stalked silently towards him. Despite himself, Bertrand began stepping backwards. "Vlad, your Highness, I can explain," he found himself losing control as he began babbling, an unfamiliar sensation but not as unfamiliar as the pure terror which was sweeping through him. _

_Vlad was now so close that Bertrand could see the dark shadow of stubble on the vampire's jaw and the purity of the red in his eyes. Instead of staking him, Vlad gripped Bertrand's cloak, the coldness of his touch penetrating through Bertrand's clothes, for a brief second Bertrand couldn't resist the impulse to reach up and cover Vlad's hand with his own ... he was forgiven... then they twirled through the air before landing with a jolt in black shadows of the alley below. _

_He saw Vlad's arm move, he felt the stake plunge through his clothing and flesh into his heart, he heard his own gasp of surprise before the burning began. The fire started in his heart and began spreading outwards. It was excruciating and it was all Bertrand could do to stop himself from screaming as he fell onto the griminess of the ground below. With a shaking hand, he tried to touch the stake lodged inside his heart. Garlic tipped argentilium. Just like Mina's arrows. Oh Vlad... such cruelty... so proud... His thoughts were rapidly becoming incoherent. Garlic was spreading through his system, causing him to disintegrate into dust from the inside out. He was powerful, over four hundred years old, it would take him at least a day to crumble. That was why Vlad had taken him down into the shelter of this alley. So that not even the sunrise could release Bertrand from this torment. _

_He found himself scrabbling for the edges of Vlad's cloak as it swept the dirt, he heard the pleading tone of his voice as he choked out Vlad's name over and over again. The Chosen One gazed down at him, his eyes still red, his fangs still gleaming at the corners of his mouth. There was no trace of mercy on Vlad's face. And still he didn't speak. Just to hear his voice one last time... Vlad turned his back to Bertrand, he took deliberately slow and careful steps away from his prey into the darkness of the night. A final taunt to Bertrand du Fortunesa. Despite the grief and the pain, Bertrand almost smiled as he had one last coherent thought. Yes, Vladimir Dracula, I taught you well._

* * *

Ingrid swept out of the lounge with a spectacular bang, slamming the door behind her so hard that cracks appeared in the wall. Vlad sank into an armchair with a despairing groan. What use was it being Grand High Vampire when you couldn't even protect your own family? If he hadn't been so weak...

His phone was buzzing again. Grimacing with annoyance, Vlad retrieved it from his pocket. Robin. Two missed calls and a text message. Sliding his fingers across the screen he opened the text message first, swearing viciously as he read its contents: _'URGENT. Jonno van Helsing is in Oxford. Call me when you get this.'_

* * *

A slow, triumphant smile spread across Bertrand's lips as he stepped into the middle of the circle. He raised his hands in welcome. "Blood Brothers, thank you for your presence tonight." He began to stride around the circle at a measured pace. "I know some of you have been rather impatient with me lately. You want results." His smile deepened as the various vampires nodded and murmured in agreement. "I assure you that I have not let you down. Vladimir Dracula is an exceptionally powerful vampire, however, I know every one of his weaknesses. I know how to destroy him but I will require all of you to assist me. Together, we are going to turn him into dust."

A slow clapping began, the volume and intensity increasing as members of the Blood Brotherhood became gleeful over the prospect of finally achieving their goal. Bertrand didn't join in with the applause, instead he smiled smugly. His plans were developing in a most satisfactory manner.

**Chapter 32 teaser**

_'Something small, something that glittered...'_


	34. Chapter 32

**_Thanks for the reviews on the flashback chapters – I'm really glad that you guys enjoyed them! I hope I was able to explain/answer any questions you may have._**

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**_Thanks as always for reading and reviewing – I hope you enjoy this._**

**_xo _**

**Chapter 32**

_The mix of blood and incense in the air was so intense that Vlad felt like he was choking. Behind him, he could hear the hisses and whimpers of the frightened vampires as the strange breathers approached them across the bloody terrain. Vlad resisted the urge to turn around and snap at the cowering vampires. They were supposed to be invincible, they had fought their battle against humanity and the breathers had fallen. Now was their time, this was their victory feast and yet the light spreading across the black sky and red earth said something different. What was it? _

_Vlad shook his head as if to dislodge the stranger's voice. These were not his thoughts or his memories however real they felt at this moment. He focused his attention on the lead breather, the one who held the source of the light in their hands. He didn't recognise the breather, this time he wasn't dreaming of Scarlett. Well, that was one thing to be grateful for. Dragging your girlfriend into scary nightmares was one way to kill off a relationship. Speaking of death, vampires could die in the dreamworld. Vlad wasn't sure where he was at the moment, whether this counted as part of the dreamworld or not, but already he could feel the heat of the light upon his blood stained face and hands. It hurt._

_He tried to gaze at the object of light in the lead breather's hands. It must be the source, if only he could get a clear look at it then he would at least have an image of what he was supposed to be searching for. The whiteness was burning into his eyes as he tried to see through the layers of light to the small object cupped reverently in the breather's hands. Something small, something that glittered... the chants of Aramaic intensified, the white heat surrounded him and he was burning..._

* * *

Vlad awakened suddenly, snarling fiercely through his fangs as he struggled with an overwhelming sense of disorientation. The white heat of his dream was fading away but he didn't recognise his surroundings. He hadn't banged his head on his coffin and wherever he was, it seemed to be flooded with soft golden light. Dazed with confusion and fear, Vlad almost snapped at the hand which reached out to touch his face. He could sense the tantalising ebb and flow of precious blood through the living flesh, it made his eyes blacken with hunger and his mouth dry with thirst. Scarlett's scent and warmth shrouded him, "Hush my darling, hush Vlad, you're ok," her words broke through the mist in his mind.

Clumsily, Vlad caught her hand in his as she caressed his cheek. He couldn't be certain if he was dreaming or awake, Scarlett felt real but she had felt like this before in his dreams. He pressed his mouth against the delicate skin of her wrist, her scent was stronger than ever at this pulse point, the throbbing of blood beneath her skin a curiously seductive caress to his lips. He was tempted to bite her. Not because he was hungry but because he wanted more of her, he wanted to know what she tasted like, he wanted to mark her for his own. However, the temptation was fleeting, images of other ways in which he could claim her for his own, taste her, lose himself in her burst through his mind distracting him from her blood.

Within a heartbeat he shifted so that he was almost upon her, his mouth covering hers, kissing her in a way that he had never kissed her before, viciously with fangs, almost violent in his desperation to be close to her. Sex, comfort, blood, Vlad wasn't sure what he wanted, but whatever it was, he needed it from her. He could feel the drumming of her heart as her body arched up against his. Her mouth opened willingly to his demands, her fingers running through his hair even as he entangled one hand in hers. Her response was so immediate, so perfectly matched to his intensity that Vlad found himself groaning her name and grinding shamelessly against her. He fought to remember that she was a breather and therefore needed to pause for air. But when he pulled back from kissing her, Scarlett whimpered in protest. That tiny sound was almost Vlad's undoing.

Then there was the way that Scarlett's mouth skimmed over his cheekbones, the hotness of her breath sending ripples of heat across his cold skin as she trailed kisses down his throat. The fuzziness in Vlad's head was clearing and he was becoming painfully aware of just how rough he had been with the girl in his arms. His weight was probably too heavy for Scarlett's smaller frame but when he tried to move away, she surprised him by tightening her arms. He knew his moans of encouragement were much too enthusiastic as her kisses became rougher and yet he couldn't stop himself. His neck had always been off limits to his vampire lovers but now he could feel what he had been missing. As Scarlett's teeth scraped deliberately against the sensitive skin of his throat, Vlad found himself wondering if biting could actually be a pleasurable experience. If Scarlett had been a vampire then he would probably be on the verge of begging her to sink the fangs in.

This realisation startled Vlad so much that he found himself suddenly pulling away. It hurt to see the look of confusion on Scarlett's face as he did this. He wished that he could find the words to explain that it just felt too good without sounding like an idiot. Instead of attempting to speak he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers in slow, lingering kisses. Pausing to let Scarlett breathe, Vlad found himself stroking her face, running his thumb across her swollen lips and spreading his fingers across the pinkness of her chin where his stubble had irritated the soft skin. He raised his head slightly to glance around his surroundings which he now recognised as Scarlett's room. Confused by the bright autumn sunshine pouring in through the windows, Vlad frowned deeply. Why wasn't he burning up? Great, just great! Was he now impervious to sunlight?

"UV filters," Scarlett explained breathlessly as she pressed a soft kiss against his throat, her fingers still curled around strands of his hair.

Startled, Vlad gave her a curious look then he realised that she must have followed his inquiring gaze towards the window. UV filters – hmm useful. Dmitri must have arranged it. The Russian soldier was actually very meticulous when it came to his role as Vlad's protector. Although, out of all the vampire weaknesses that he would have liked to lose, sunlight was definitely at the top of the list. He missed the sun. Sudden sadness washed over Vlad. He sighed heavily as he found himself sliding down in the bed to rest his head on Scarlett's chest. He liked listening to the thud of her heartbeat, he found it strangely reassuring.

He wanted to continue kissing her but the room was starting to tilt crazily and his limbs felt unusually heavy. He guessed from the way she ruffled his hair that she wasn't too annoyed about this turn of events. Slipping a possessive arm around Scarlett's waist, Vlad snuggled contently against her warmth. He closed his heavy eyelids against the sunlight and tried to remember how he had ended up staying in Scarlett's room.

The details of the previous night were blurred and he had a deep uneasy feeling that he didn't really want to go poking around in his murky memories. Even as he thought this, the inevitable deluge of images flashed across his mind, Bertrand, Ingrid, Jonno – all in Oxford. Oh bats! Vlad tried to rise up onto one elbow, he needed to protect Ingrid and his friends from Bertrand, he needed to find the source before the Guild, he needed to...

Gently Scarlett pressed his head down again. "Go back to sleep Vladimir," she said firmly.

Vlad scowled but it was half-hearted. The small part of his mind that didn't want to go back to sleep was being rapidly overwhelmed by the rest of him which was demanding that he close his eyes and fall back into the dreamworld. Soothed by the stroking of his hair and the comforting warmth of Scarlett's body, Vlad gave up the resistance.

* * *

Ingrid had given up on trying to sleep a few hours ago. All that tossing and turning in the coffin wasn't good for her hair. She even made it as far as Vlad's coffin room before remembering his hurried departure from the mansion late last night. Stamping her foot in thwarted rage, Ingrid cursed her brother for the thousandth time that day. Placing a hand on the door to Vlad's room, she pushed the door open to view his private quarters. Of course this breather hole couldn't possibly compare to the grandeur of Castle Dracula but Vlad had strange preferences when it came to his living arrangements. Just look at the recent renovations to the dungeons in Castle Dracula.

Ingrid had little respect for her brother's privacy. What was his was hers as far as she was concerned. Except the paperwork. Vlad could keep that all to himself. She couldn't help the smile that crept across her lips at the sight of the large flat screen television upon the wall. Vlad and his funny little breather obsessions. She trailed a hand along his metal coffin. She had always wondered, but never asked, when Vlad had finally given in to the vampire tradition of sleeping in a coffin. Asking would imply that she cared. Which she didn't.

She didn't bother clicking her fingers to open the coffin, she knew from past experience that it wouldn't work. She climbed the steep and winding staircase to the mock turret tower. Pale sunlight was pouring through the window, the stained glass casting colours upon the floor and walls. This room, if you could even call it that, was tiny. Ingrid had to stoop to prevent her head from making contact with the ceiling. There was just enough space for two people to squeeze in together. A scattering of cushions, books and a few bottles of soy blood indicated Vlad's use of this snug little space.

Cautiously she snuck her hand into the sunbeams, letting out a sigh of relief when the light didn't burn her pale skin. UV filters- a great innovation for sun loving freaks like Vlad. Ingrid found herself curling up on the cushions. Resting her head against the stone arch of the window, she watched as the reflected colours danced across the floor. Once again her thoughts turned to the revelations of last night. Truly, her thoughts should be dominated with memories of Bertrand and his treachery but instead Ingrid found her mind drifting persistently to a more recent betrayal.

Robin Branagh the vampire slayer. Argh! The very thought of it made her lip curl with disgust. Branagh had always been on their side. No matter how many times the Count or Ingrid threatened to bite him, no matter how many times visiting relatives or officials endangered him and no matter how many terrible meals Renfield served, Robin had continued to visit the castle. He had always helped them escape from or defeat the slayers – van Helsing's first 'visit' to the castle, the Blood Mirror, the night Will was slain... Robin had always just sort of been there. A fairly annoying addition to the family but a member nonetheless. It had been his life ambition to become a vampire for garlic's sake! To become a slayer, could there be a worse betrayal?

Ingrid's heart twisted at the memory of Vlad's words. A rabid vampire indeed! She had been perfectly in control and anyway Branagh hadn't been on her list. The soppy little freak had helped them out too many times - Ingrid appreciated loyalty. Besides, even back then she didn't want to risk the wrath of the so called Chosen One. The Count and Vlad had fled Stokely but there had always been the possibility that they would return. Finding out that his best friend had been murdered by his sister was exactly the sort of thing that Vlad would get in a huff over.

Now Branagh was a garlic munching, slaying traitor. She should have ripped his pathetic throat out when she had the chance. He was probably even one of the best given his extensive knowledge of vampires and the supernatural.

Of course, Vlad had forgiven Branagh for his betrayal. How typical of her brother to go around dispensing forgiveness. Especially, when it wasn't his place to do so. Robin. Esmeralda. Mum. Erin. The van Helsings. Bertrand. Was there anything that Vlad wouldn't forgive? Even her own betrayals against him - time and time again he forgave her and Ingrid wasn't sure if she felt gratitude or contempt.

Well, she certainly hadn't forgiven Vlad. Only now, she could add Bertrand's survival to the long list of grudges that she held against her brother. It was right at the top of the list along with that time he had tried to slay her by throwing her out into the sunlight. Letting her would be assassin escape a dusting revealed just how little Vlad cared for her feelings let alone her safety. So much for being his second in command...

She jumped slightly, almost hitting her head against the very low ceiling as Ryan silently appeared around the curve of the staircase. He held a mug of warm blood and a black wrap. Ingrid's initial scowl softened as Ryan knelt by her feet so that she didn't even have to move an inch to reach for her drink. Ingrid sniffed the air hungrily, her mouth growing dry with anticipation, B negative her favourite blood type, Ryan must have smuggled a bottle from the Count's blood cellar before they left Transylvania. There was no way that her self-righteous wimpire of a brother would drink anything other than soy substitute. In thanks, Ingrid trailed her knuckles across Ryan's cold cheek in a rare demonstration of affection, her lips twitching in amused disdain as the half fang closed his eyes and leant into her touch.

* * *

Dabbing carefully at her newly red lips, Scarlett glanced at the time on her laptop. Since the clocks went back at Halloween the nights were falling down earlier. It was dark outside already but Vlad hadn't woken up yet. He had looked so peaceful that she had been reluctant to disturb him especially considering the state that he had been in when he had crashed into her room this morning. It was nearly six o clock now, the bells of the Oxford churches would soon be ringing out, their chimes filling the evening air. They were having Sunday dinner at seven. It was probably about time that she roused Vlad from his slumber so that he had enough time to get showered and dressed before dinner.

She walked over to her bed, her heart contracting painfully at the sight of the sleeping vampire upon her covers. Vlad was just so... beautiful. She sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. He was deathly still when he was asleep, it was only now that you could notice his lack of breathing as his chest remained still instead of moving. It still made her flush with embarrassment to remember how she had once tried to take his pulse. She couldn't help reaching out to run her fingers across his face, stroking back his jet black hair, it was getting rather long now as it fell over his forehead into his eyes and curled just slightly at the nape of his neck. His smooth skin felt warm beneath her fingers as she caressed his cheek. She had always thought that vampires were meant to be icy cold. Sometimes, when they first touched or kissed, it felt like Vlad had just come into the warmth after being outdoors on a cold wintery day, but his chilliness usually dissipated within minutes.

She should run from him. She knew this would be the sensible thing to do. She had no time for relationships, no desire to be caught up in a whirlwind of emotion that would only end up breaking her heart. She didn't want anyone to get close. People left you. People hurt you. People let you down. Vladimir Dracula would be the same in the end. Just look at how he had treated Robin. To abandon him the way Vlad did was unspeakably cruel. If he could do that to his best friend, then why would he treat her – just another girl in a long line of conquests- any differently?

Sighing heavily, Scarlett struggled to change the direction of her thoughts, this was not the time, she would tidy them away in her mind to worry over later. At least she was good at that. Gently, she shook Vlad's shoulder to wake him up.

* * *

Wind blasted in through the open door, newspapers fluttered into the air, a cold chill spread through the common room and the milk in various mugs turned sour much to the bewilderment of their drinkers. Ingrid and Ryan stepped into this chaos closing the door behind them with a thunderous bang. Confidently, Ingrid strode into the middle of the common room. Placing a hand on her hip, she smiled arrogantly at the gaping students. Breathers, well she would grant them one thing, they could be so good at adoration. Male or female, everyone present in that room couldn't take their eyes off her. That was exactly how it should be.

"I'm looking for Vlad Count." Her words were crisp, business-like.

A red headed man scoffed from his comfortable position lounging on the nearest armchair. "Yet another one for Count!" he announced to the rest of the common room. His eyes raked up and down the leather clad female in front of him. "You're fitter than most though." He gave her a salacious wink.

Within seconds he found himself dangling in the air. Ryan obediently looked to Ingrid for further orders as Adam yelped and squirmed in alarm. Ingrid laughed with derision. "He's my brother, you insect biter," she sneered. She gave a tiny shake of her head and unceremoniously Ryan dropped Adam onto the floor.

"Yeah coz you are both really fit," Tom smiled dreamily before realising in horror what he had just said. "Not that I think Vlad is fit. At all. Ugh," he added unconvincingly, acutely aware of the eyebrows that his previous statement had risen.

Ingrid hissed with annoyance. Why were breathers so dense?

"I know where he is."

Ingrid and Ryan turned in the direction of this voice. They recognised the green eyed girl from last night. She smiled enthusiastically at them as she practically bounced into the common room. "Hi Ingrid," she held out her hand.

Caught off guard by the girl's breezy manner, Ingrid found herself shaking hands. Charlie turned to Ryan with a big smile and held out her hand, "Hi..." she paused meaningfully.

In puzzlement, after all this was not how breathers normally acted around Ingrid, Ryan looked to his mistress for approval before cautiously taking Charlie's hand in his and replying "Ryan". This detail didn't escape Charlie's sharp eyes.

Impatiently, Ingrid folded her arms. "Where is my brother?" she demanded imperiously.

Charlie continued to beam as if she were genuinely delighted to see them again. Ingrid found it incredibly off putting.

"He'll be at Sunday dinner in about fifteen minutes. Why don't you join us?" Charlie cooed sweetly. She would never know how she managed to stop herself from bursting into laughter at the look of incredulity on Ingrid Dracula's face.

* * *

Tamara's date had not got off to a good beginning. She had arrived at the boutique bar in Oxford Castle just about fifteen minutes late. It was her usual practice to turn up slightly late, just long enough for the man to start feeling anxious. It didn't hurt to keep them on their toes. It also sent them an important message - her time was a more precious commodity than theirs.

The bar was an eclectic mixture of old Georgian decadence and 1980s interior design. Her date, strangely she couldn't remember his name, was sat in one of the long backed armchairs by the flickering light display. In the darkly lit room, he appeared more handsome than ever, the mixture of moving colours and dim lights accentuating his finely cut cheekbones and luscious mouth. A bottle of wine and a full glass rested on the glass table in front of him. He appeared to be lost in his thought as he absentmindedly swirled the liquid in his glass. When he glanced up and saw her standing by the doorway, his black brows came together in a ferocious glower.

"You're late," he said in a tone of displeasure as Tamara gracefully sank into the seat opposite him.

Tamara laughed airily as she wound her fingers across the glass of wine that he had poured for her. Not many men took the step of ordering drinks before a lady arrived. She appreciated his unusual boldness. "A woman's prerogative," she purred seductively.

He leant forward in his seat and smiled coldly. "Not anymore. I appreciate punctuality." He spoke quietly but the tone of command in his voice was unmistakable.

Tamara knew that she should have stood up and left. Perhaps, she should have even tossed the contents of her glass into his face. Nobody spoke to her like that. She was the one in control. She made _them _squirm with discomfort. She pulled the strings. She made them worry about where they stood. She had always held the balance of power in her encounters with the opposite sex. And now this stranger thought he could boss her around? No chance... except he wasn't like other men. He was intriguing, impossibly good-looking and dangerous. Something deep inside her was screaming at her to run away. He was some kind of forbidden fruit and Tamara wanted him. She would break him, she vowed, it would be a challenge but she would break him. He couldn't be that different from the others.

He smirked at her exaggerated pout and reclined back in his seat. For several long minutes, they said nothing to each other. As he watched her sip her wine, Tamara suppressed the urge to shiver under the intensity of his gaze. A vague uneasy feeling was stirring deep inside, she felt like a mouse waiting for the cat to pounce.

"I need you to regain your friendship with Scarlett."

Tamara's eyes narrowed at this statement. She noted with satisfaction the immense distaste with which he said her nemesis's name. It did not, however, take away the outrageous nature of what he had just suggested. Tamara set her glass down abruptly, causing the wine to slosh over the sides. His eyes flickered disapprovingly to the spilt drops on the formerly pristine table. "No! Why should I?" she asked loudly, her raised voice causing some of the other patrons to glance enquiringly at them.

He chuckled patronisingly. His eyes seemed to flare an impossible shade of red in the dim lighting. "As much as I hate to resort to clichés," an evil smile flitted across his deliciously full lips as he raised his glass of strangely coloured alcohol, "haven't you ever heard of the saying, keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer?"

**Chapter 33 teaser**

_'It's nothing worse than what I've done to you...'_


	35. Chapter 33

_**Sorry my posting has been erratic lately. Unfortunately, I have been experiencing the curse of writer's block. Thank you so much for the reviews – I wasn't even going to post today except the reviews for Chapter 32 were so lovely. They really do keep me going. **_

_**Check out HopeCoppice's fic 'Paperwork' – they took my whinging about WB and made it into something lovely and fluffy : ) (Actually just check EVERYTHING by HC –amazing!)**_

_**Hope you enjoy this xo**_

**Chapter 33**

There were many things that Vlad hated. Admitting that his Dad was right was definitely one of them. However, he had to concede that since Dmitri's arrival, the older vampire had proven himself to be a valuable asset. His protector had the foresight to leave backpacks containing essential provisions with Robin and Scarlett in case of situations like this when Vlad stayed there during the hours of daylight. As much he liked the scent of lavender on Scarlett's skin, he appreciated being able to use his own less feminine shower gel and he certainly appreciated fresh new clothes. He hoped that Dmitri packed extra socks in Robin's backpack. He had a feeling that his best mate could be quite unscrupulous when it came to avoiding laundry.

Vlad grimaced as he ran a hand along the line of stubble on his jaw; he would really need to shave when he returned to his residence. His father depended on Renfield to perform such grooming duties but Vlad was understandably wary about letting anyone with a sharp blade come near his throat. Instead he had learnt how to shave his face by touch without the aid of a mirror. It definitely helped that any nicks or cuts healed almost instantly due to his vampire healing abilities.

He picked up his college hoodie from the floor and twisted it anxiously in his hands as he contemplated leaving the safety of the bathroom to face Scarlett. It was incredibly embarrassing to reflect back on what had happened since last night. After an intense telephone conversation with Robin in the later hours of the night, during which his best mate had given him an explicit warning not to go disturbing Scarlett, Vlad had thrown himself into vigorous training for a couple of hours. Afterwards, concerned at Vlad's agitated state and aware that he hadn't slept properly for days, Dmitri had insisted on preparing a sleeping draught. Vlad had fully intended to abide by Robin's warning but as he lay back in his coffin, all he could think about was how everything seemed to be crumbling around him. The reappearance of his former tutor. His sister's arrival and subsequent rage. The Guild's knowledge of his presence in Oxford. Jonathan van Helsing's determination to get revenge for a murder that Vlad hadn't committed. Further turbulence in his would-be relationship with Scarlett. Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing, he found himself in a race against the rising sun to reach Winterville College.

In retrospect arriving at Scarlett's lodgings in a drug induced state of extreme doziness had not been one of his best plans of action. He had a vague recollection of slurring an apology at her for his arrival at such an ungodly hour before collapsing in a heap on her carpet. That memory alone was enough to send Vlad cringing into his coffin for the next century. If that wasn't bad enough, he then had the audacity to wake up in the middle of the day and practically assault her, although the memory of her response... Then in the middle of kissing her he had fallen asleep again. Oh the mortification!

Vlad twisted the unfortunate hoodie ever tighter in his hands. Scarlett had seemed perfectly ok when she awakened him this evening. There had been nothing in her manner to indicate that she was upset or angry with him. Of course, he had still been groggy from the sleeping draught so he hadn't exactly been at his most observant. Vlad gritted his fangs and tugged the hoodie over his head. He was being stupid. For garlic's sake he was the Grand High Vampire! If he could handle slayers and the High Council he could face a mere breather. Even if he had made a prat of himself in front of that breather. Repeatedly.

Vlad pulled open the bathroom door to be greeted by the smell of freshly warmed soy blood. Curse Dmitri. He had been hoping that the bottles of soy blood in the backpack had somehow escaped Scarlett's attention. The last thing Vlad wanted to do was increase her awareness of the more unpalatable aspects of his vampirism.

Scarlett was hunched over her desk searching through various papers and books. She looked up from flicking through her diary and greeted him with a smile. "Feeling better?"

Vlad nodded. "Yeah. Much." He walked over to her desk and sat on the edge. "Sorry, you know about ..." he began awkwardly.

Scarlett waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it," she said with surprising firmness. "You looked after me when I had too much to drink at the Halloween party. We are having dinner in fifteen minutes – Robin's turn!" Her eyes were sparkling with mischief. They both knew Robin's turn meant that Charlie was heating up Mrs Branagh's cooking. After several disastrous meals, Robin was officially banned from cooking for the group. Something Vlad knew his best mate took great pride in.

"Mmm, I always loved Mrs B's cooking," Vlad replied with a wry smile.

Scarlett hesitantly nudged a mug of soy blood towards him. "I guess you probably need some of this."

Determinedly, Vlad pushed the mug back. "I'm not hungry." Surprisingly, it was true. Since he had come to Oxford his thirst for blood - soy or human - had diminished. Briefly, he wondered if this was further confirmation that the source was hidden somewhere in the city.

Scarlett gave him a stern look. "Do you know how much trouble I went to putting that in the microwave?" she said lightly, the corners of her mouth curving into a cheeky smile. "I even got the thermometer out of my first aid kit to test that it was at body temperature." Clearly, Vlad's horror was written all across his face because she suddenly burst out laughing. "No, I didn't! Don't worry Vlad, just drink it." Taking his hand, she wrapped his reluctant fingers around the warm mug.

Meeting her gaze, Vlad found that her eyes were full of gentle understanding. Cautiously, he picked up the mug and sipped the contents, carefully watching her reaction the entire time. Scarlett seemed completely unbothered as she reached for her own mug of tea. Sometimes Vlad thought that she seemed too cool with him being a vampire, perhaps she hadn't fully absorbed its meaning and one night she would suddenly turn around, point her finger at him, scream vampire and run. It wasn't the happiest of thoughts. Then again, perhaps she would be like Robin, who had been completely unfazed by the discovery that his new neighbours were vampires and seven years later still showed no sign of freaking out. Robin was rather unique.

He watched as Scarlett began to pin up her loose hair into its customary bun. Setting his mug down, he leant forward and caught her wrists gently. "Don't." He moved to kiss her before remembering that his mouth was probably stained with soy blood. He settled for pressing his forehead against hers. "I prefer your hair down."

Scarlett blushed slightly as a radiant smile crept across her face. "Aw, seriously?" She tilted her head and pressed her lips against his in a soft lingering kiss.

Vlad felt some of his anxiety dissipate, the tension in his body slipping away as her lips caressed his; she didn't seem to mind that that he had been drinking soy blood. He released her wrists so that he could gently cup her face. The warmth of her mouth sent ripples of electricity through his body. He guessed from the way her heartbeat accelerated that she felt something similar. With so many vampires willing to do just about anything he asked of them in the coffin, Vlad had forgotten how much fun simply kissing could be. When her mouth left his, he had to force himself to sit back against the desk instead of leaning in for more. He frowned as Scarlett calmly reached for a hairpin and continued to put her hair up.

She laughed at his look of bewilderment. "I prefer you in a cape with evening dress," she gestured at his casual outfit of jeans and a hoodie, "and I'm not getting my preference so why should you get yours?" There was a flirtatious gleam in her eye.

Vlad couldn't help laughing. "Are you negotiating with me?" He chuckled again as Scarlett gave him a decisive nod but then his laughter rapidly faded when he caught sight of the blackening bruises on her neck. Remorse and disgust overwhelmed him, "Scarlett, I'm... I'm so ... so sorry," he stammered out. He trailed concerned fingers over her throat, trying not to get distracted by the way her eyes fluttered closed. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Scarlett opened her eyes again. "You didn't," she gently reassured him. "They are just love bites, hickeys, whatever you want to call them. Bit embarrassing at our age but..." she shrugged causally.

"But you're bruised!" Alarm made his voice a couple of notches louder than usual. The vivid marks on Scarlett's throat sickened him. He wondered how close he had come to biting her without even realising it. How could she even let him near her after what he had just done? "It won't happen again," he vowed fiercely.

"Oh for goodness' sake!" Scarlett said crossly, catching his hand in hers. "Stop being such a silly goose! I told you, they are just love bites. They didn't hurt at the time, they don't hurt now and..." She glared at Vlad as he failed to hold back his laughter.

"Did you just call me a goose?" he asked incredulously between snorts of laughter. "I'm the Chosen One! The Grand High Vampire!"

"Yes," Scarlett answered primly. "It's what Sister Mary used to call someone who was hissing and flapping over nothing." Despite her best efforts to remain frosty, he could see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Vlad shook his head in amused disbelief. "Believe me, I am nothing like a goose when I hiss and flap." He grinned cockily.

"I bet," Scarlett replied drily. She rose to her feet and lifted her hand to caress his neck. "Besides, it's nothing worse than what I've done to you." She brushed her warm lips against the curve of his jaw.

A sigh of pleasure escaped Vlad before he could suppress it. He rolled his eyes at her words. "I don't bruise," he said patronisingly even as he leant into the delicious pressure of her mouth against his skin.

Scarlett pulled back with a frown. "Yes, you do."

Vlad sighed with exaggerated impatience, feeling both bereft and annoyed at her withdrawal. "No, actually I don't."

Scarlett continued to frown. "Yes, you do," she insisted with infuriating confidence. She grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of her wardrobe. "I'll show you."

Vlad resisted the pull of her hand. "Scarlett, I don't bruise and I don't have a reflection!" he snapped. Couldn't she see that this argument was taking up valuable making out time? They still had five minutes left!

She gave him an imploring look and with an irritable sigh he followed her over to the wardrobe where a full length mirror hung on the inside. The door swung open and Vlad stepped back in shock as it revealed Scarlett's image and that of a young man standing behind her. Vlad's reflection stared back at him with equal horror. "What the-?! " He yanked his hand free of hers and stepped out of the mirror's line of vision.

Scarlett gave Vlad a disbelieving look. "Are you scared of your own reflection?" It was clear that she was trying to stifle a laugh.

"With good reason," Vlad muttered darkly. The excruciating pain of one thousand reflections merging with his body still lingered in his mind no matter how hard he tried to forget.

Scarlett took his hand and gently pulled him back in front of the mirror. Still holding his hand within her smaller one, she touched their hands to the mirror's surface. Vlad could feel nothing but the smooth coldness of ordinary glass beneath his fingertips. Scarlett's triumphant smile was reflected up at him. "See, nothing to be afraid of."

* * *

The heat of Robin's thigh burned through her leather clothing in a most discomforting manner. His aftershave hung heavily in the air between them, mixed with his slayer blood it was disturbingly intoxicating. Ingrid tried to not to grit her fangs as she shifted her position on the floor so that she wasn't quite so close to Robin. She couldn't believe that she was actually doing this. Draculas did not sit on the floor. Especially a floor covered in cheap carpet in student halls. Curiosity was supposed to kill the cat. Not plonk a plate of chicken casserole on its lap and tell it excitedly that they had lemon cheesecake for dessert.

She deliberately turned her face away from Vlad's smug smirk on the other side of Ryan. She suspected that her brother knew exactly what she was thinking about this entire situation. She also knew why Vlad had sandwiched her and Ryan in between him and Robin, just in case... What she couldn't see was why Vlad had sat beside Ryan inside of her. It was insulting to insinuate that Ryan was a bigger threat. It was even more insulting to imply that a pathetic loser like Robin Branagh could possibly stop her from biting everyone in this room if she wanted to.

Charlie gave her a friendly smile as she caught her eye. Ingrid scowled and immediately glanced away. Was that girl for real? How could anyone be so happy and bouncy? It was nauseating. She recalled Charlie's explanation of Sunday dinner. '_Sunday evenings are always so depressing, you know, end of the weekend, start of another long week of work. So I thought why not brighten them up? Get everyone together for a slap up meal?' _Argh! How could anyone be so ..._nice_?

Glancing around the rest of the students in the room she noted with haughty pride how most of them, male and female, watched her with shades of awe and lust. How boring and predictable. Still such admiration could be useful. She noted with interest how her brother looked at the pretty blonde by his side, it had been a very long time since she had seen such softness in his eyes. Hmm, did she have another potential threat to neutralise? Maybe not. She grinned inwardly as she noticed the shadowing of possible bruises on Vlad's neck, almost but not quite obscured by his hoodie. Had her brother, the Chosen One and Grand High Vampire, really let a vampiress take a nibble on his neck? Oooh the mere thought was simply scandalous! From the corner of her eye, she watched Charlie slip her hand into Robin's. So Miss Sunshine and the former vampire geek turned traitor were a couple? There was so much potential to stir up trouble here, it might be worth hanging around for a while.

* * *

The blue figures on the screen of the car radio told Professor Teverson that she had been sat here for the best part of an hour. Her hands moved protectively over the vanilla-coloured folders on her lap. Now that she was here outside the Guild headquarters, she was having second thoughts. The Oxfordshire headquarters were located in an astoundingly pretty village twelve miles away from the city. The drive through quiet country lanes had given her time to think.

She was terribly aware of the magnitude of her decision. If she got out of the car, walked up those stone steps and knocked on the door then she would be betraying the Order. Not to mention betraying Father James, a man who had performed her marriage ceremony with Stephen and who had baptised her much loved little boy only five years ago. She would be turning her back on the organisation that had secretly funded her work for over a decade. She would be risking the wrath of the Church that she had worshipped at all her adult life. In other words, she would be destroying the very foundations on which her entire life was built.

Taking a shaky breath, she ran her fingers over the worn beads of her crucifix as if seeking an answer from them. She had always believed in the Order's work but that was before she had come face to face with pure evil in the form of the innocuous Vlad Count. Behind that polite smile, lurked fangs ready to rip her students' throats out. Yet, Father James was strangely adamant that the Guild, not Dracula, posed the real danger. Hesitantly, she set the folders down on the passenger seat and turned the ignition key. Perhaps it would be worth having one more conversation with Father James. Perhaps, he would finally explain his intense mistrust of the Guild to her and she would finally understand why he was conducting himself in such a peculiar fashion. Yes, one more conversation was needed before she threw away everything that she believed in.

**Chapter 33 teaser**

'_Only a handful of vampires know this information and some of them have already ended up as dust.'_


	36. Chapter 34

_**Apologies for not posting as usual on Tuesday. Family circumstances and writer's block meant that I just wasn't ready to post this chapter. Fortunately, I have managed to catch up on my writing over the week. I've also written a one-shot 'Cherries' about Bertrand and Ingrid – please accept it as an apology : )**_

_**So, chapter 34 and only now do you get to see the ... (no that would be telling!) I hope this was worth the wait. Thank you so much for reading and especially for reviewing. **_

_**xo**_

** Chapter 34**

Vlad stuck his hands in his leather jacket and gazed moodily at the people in front of him. There were far too many of them, he had only wanted Scarlett and Robin to join him for a discussion at his Banbury mansion. However, Charlie had insisted that she wasn't going to be left out of things by the 'historians' just because she was the only scientist amongst them. And anyway, she was a medium so she might be able to help. Then Ingrid had been adamant that if a bunch of filthy breathers were allowed to hear about the source then she, as his second in command, was also entitled to attend. Vlad had somehow found himself outvoted and out-manoeuvred as Scarlett and Robin voiced their support for the interlopers.

He leant against his desk and eyeballed them each in turn before speaking. "What I am about to tell you, must go no further than this room," he warned them, "Only a handful of vampires know this information and some of them have already ended up as dust." He waited impatiently for each of them to acknowledge this warning. Even Ingrid seemed slightly subdued at the implicit threat in his words. Vlad folded his arms across his chest and began to explain. "In the past few months, a prophecy regarding the future of vampirekind has come to my attention. It was after Ingrid left for her world tour." He gave Ingrid a pointed look, he could only hope that this would assuage her suspicions that she had been sent off on the world tour as a diversion. He wasn't going to go into more detail than this statement. The vampire who had approached him with the prophecy had actually been seeking the services of Bertrand as one of the most eminent historians of the vampire world. Vlad would rather not remind Ingrid of his recent failures regarding the former tutor.

After receiving a huffy nod from his sister, Vlad continued. "I have in my possession the original fragment of the prophecy. According to history, the prophecy was first recorded in Spain – the Valcenia region I believe. At some point, during the various skirmishes between medieval Spain and the Ottoman Empire, it was liberated by the Katane clan. They were one of the oldest and most powerful vampire clans in existence, it is rumoured that they could trace their lineage back to the very first vampires. However, the family suffered a mysterious and sudden demise in the sixteenth century. The clan went from ruling countries in two different continents to nothing. There are no known survivors of the Katane bloodline. Naturally, other vampires weren't too keen to explore exactly what happened so for several centuries the prophecy was misplaced along with the various other possessions of the Katane clan until it was rediscovered a decade ago. The vampire who uncovered the prophecy thought nothing of it until I was officially crowned and recognised as the Chosen One.

The prophecy has been translated and recorded many times but overall the meaning remains the same. It claims that there is an object of immense power which dates back to the first reign of vampirekind. It is ambiguous as to whether the source can destroy us or grant us victory. Either way, it could be an incredibly dangerous weapon to fall into the wrong fangs or hands.

It is my belief that this object is located in Oxford. I need your help to find it before the Slayers Guild or any other vampire. Robin, Scarlett, I need you to be my researchers. I don't trust Professor Teverson, she has been withholding information from her team and Scarlett I know you are as good, if not better, than many of her assistants. Robin, your inside knowledge on vampires and slayers could really help Scarlett. As of tonight, I am handing you both copies of all the information and research already conducted by my vampire staff. Everything that I know, you will now have access to. I will make the appropriate arrangements with your various tutors to free up your time to spend on this. I know, this is a huge ask of you, but I'll ensure that it's worth your time." Vlad gave them slightly anxious looks, "Jonathan van Helsing's presence in Oxford suggests that the Guild is already on my trail. Time could be critical."

Scarlett gave him a mutinous look and folded her arms across her chest. "I can't believe you held back such important information. Academic integrity, all that I'm saying, academic integrity."

Vlad tried unsuccessfully to bite back his smile at her outrage. "Is that a yes?"

Scarlett shrugged grumpily. "Obviously." As if she was going to miss out on the opportunity to research something this exciting.

Vlad looked at his best friend. "Robin?" he prompted.

Robin frowned before nodding slowly. "One condition," he said firmly, "That thing that we discussed. You know student life." He gave Vlad a meaningful look.

Vlad hesitated, he had probably wasted enough nights with student activities, after all hadn't he just warned them that time was critical? Yet Robin's fierce words on Saturday morning still rang in his ears. He knew exactly what Robin was trying to achieve, he wanted to prevent Vlad from getting so wrapped up in his problems as Grand High Vampire that he forgot what he was fighting so hard for. He gave Robin a determined nod of agreement and was rewarded with a wide grin from his best mate.

"Er, what about me?" Ingrid demanded in aggressive tones.

Vlad glanced sourly in her direction. "You are meant to be in Australia." His words were uncompromising.

Ingrid examined her shiny red nails for a moment before replying. "You're meant to be in Transylvania. Plans change. Get over it." Her smile was sweetly poisonous.

Vlad glowered fiercely at his sister, his fangs dropping for a brief second before he recovered his composure. "We'll talk about this later," he said in a cold, crisp voice.

Ingrid gave him a look that clearly said 'whatever' before re-examining her nails. Only Robin noticed the slight tremor in her hands. It concerned him because he had never conceived of Ingrid as being afraid of anything let alone her little brother.

* * *

"So," Scarlett decided to break the awkward silence that had fallen between the Dracula siblings, "the original prophecy? When can we see it?" She deliberately kept her voice light and breezy.

It seemed to work on Vlad at least because he gave her a sudden smile. "How about now?" He pushed himself away from the desk and gestured for everyone to surround him. Slipping a key out of his jeans, he unlocked one of the narrow desk drawers and produced a sleek wooden box. The dark material shone from layers of finely applied polish, swirls of shimmering pearl across the surface contrasting beautifully against the almost blackness of the wood. Carefully, Vlad opened the box and began the task of unwrapping the protective layers surrounding the old parchment. "This is the original prophecy. As you can imagine it is immensely valuable, almost priceless." Brushing aside the layers of grey tissue, he revealed a yellowing scrap of paper, the brightly coloured inks still vibrant and alive even after centuries. The writing was in Latin, the words elegantly scribed upon the parchment, the ink was slightly faded but it was clear that it had once been raven black. The intricate border was cut off abruptly at the bottom indicating that the page had been expertly slashed to cut it short. The bluntness of the paper's ends indicated that such a cut had been many centuries ago.

"Oh," Scarlett breathed reverently, "That is so beautiful." It was at times like this, she remembered why she had wanted to study History more than anything else in the world. To think that this parchment was older than the Magna Carta, that once monks had slaved over every beautifully written word to ensure it was pleasing to the eye, the history contained in and surrounding this one piece of parchment ... it was just incredible.

* * *

Glancing sideways at Scarlett, Vlad was struck by the light in her eyes, her passionate love for beautiful old things - even scraps of paper – giving her a glow. Forgetting Ingrid's presence, he reached out and touched her hand with his. When she turned to meet his gaze, his chest tightened at the radiant smile she gave him.

Beside him, Charlie cautiously reached out a hand, hovering it a few inches over the parchment only to suddenly snatch it back almost as if she had been burnt. "Woah," she gasped, her eyes fading from an impossible turquoise to her usual hazel, "That is potent stuff."

Robin gave her an excited look. "Can you sense the memories?" he asked eagerly.

Charlie grimaced as she rubbed her hand. "Not exactly. I can feel that they are there but they are locked." She looked up at Vlad. "Were you able to unlock it?" Her question was direct and to the point.

Vlad hesitated before nodding reluctantly.

"May I?" Charlie gestured at the parchment. "It could help with the research".

Vlad bit his lip before glancing again at Scarlett. His girlfriend gave him an expectant look. He sensed that he had some work to do if he wanted to make up for previously withholding information from her. This would be a start. He gave Charlie an unwilling nod. He placed his hand over the prophecy, his skin just barely touching the fragile parchment. Charlie moved to place her hand over Vlad's before Ingrid interrupted.

"What's going on?" Ingrid directed the question along with a hostile glare at Charlie, not her brother.

Charlie gave her a reassuring smile. "Most items contain residual energy, a particular memory or image stored within them," she explained, "Most of the time I can access that energy but some items are locked, only a person emotionally associated with the item can unlock it. Vlad's the Chosen One, since the prophecy is about him, he's able to unlock the energy. As a medium, I am able to act as a conduit for communication between the living and the dead. In other words, I can project the memory that Vlad sees." Taking a deep breath to ease her nerves, Charlie placed her hand over Vlad's. She gasped involuntarily at the pain as just a tiny fraction of Vlad's power coursed through her, causing her eyes to instantly snap turquoise.

Vlad found that he was visibly shaking with the effort of holding back as much of his power as possible to avoid causing any further harm to her. The darkness inside him was howling to be unleashed upon the medium.

The room filled with a low humming much like the subtle sound of electricity flowing through wiring in an empty room. A ball of white light and energy formed a couple of inches above Charlie and Vlad's hands, its harsh brightness hurting their eyes. As the brightness of the light slowly diminished, they were able to see a woman sitting outside in the sunlight. The female figure was blurring into two distinct images. The first was of a dirty dishevelled old woman with watery blue eyes and gnarled hands. Overlapping this image was a beautiful serene young woman all gold and cream in her colouring. As the woman opened her mouth to speak, it became clear that there were also two voices, the scratched and worn tones of the old woman blending perfectly with the ringing melody of the younger.

_In tenebris profundis de urbem de adagnitio, a iacet secretum  
Lassus et cruenta sunt illa qui quaerunt illud_

_Quando die mutationes ad nocte et metus mutationes ad servisse  
Unus stella a in caelum voluntas facere in tenebras lapsum statim_

The image flickered for a second before exploding into white light and fading softly away just like the fireworks from the previous night. Charlie cried out in pain as she lifted her hand away. Moving swiftly forward, Robin caught her in his arms before she crumpled to the floor. Vlad's eyes were black and his fangs lowered as he abruptly turned away from them and strode to the other side of the room. His chest moved up and down as he took deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down.

Robin stroked his girlfriend's hair tenderly, pressing a kiss of relief against her forehead as her eyes fluttered open. "Hey," he whispered.

Charlie smiled back faintly. "Hey." Her eyes had returned to their usual hazel, still gripping Robin's arms, she rose unsteadily to her feet.

"Sorry." Vlad threw the apology over his shoulder; he was keeping his distance until he was sure that he had fully regained control. "I was trying to hold back."

"Power surge." This was all Charlie offered by way of an explanation to the others. "It's ok Vlad," she called to him, her voice already sounding stronger. Colour was returning to her cheeks. She nestled willingly against Robin's chest as he pulled her close, dropping kisses on her hair and murmuring endearments into her ear.

Ingrid made a face of disgust at their actions. "Well, that was useful," she hissed at her brother, sarcasm dripping off every word, "She was still speaking Latin. Did you even understand what she was say-?"

"Medieval Latin," Scarlett interrupted excitedly earning herself a fierce scowl from Ingrid. "Twelfth century to be precise. My favourite."

Vlad immediately turned around, his eyes keenly assessing Scarlett. "What did she say?" His demand was brusque, the sharpness of his voice verging on rude.

"You have a favourite type of Latin?" Robin shook his head in despair. "Seriously, you are such a geek." He stopped sniggering as both Draculas shot him impatient glares. Vlad's was all the more intimidating as his fangs were still lowered.

"Shut up," Scarlett said amicably, as she managed to squeeze an arm around Charlie's shoulders in spite of Robin's protective embrace. "She said that in the dark depths..." Looking up from her best friend's face, Scarlett found herself faltering, a rueful smile freezing upon her lips as she met Vlad's eyes; they were hard and black, flints of pewter stone in his pale face. He had never looked at her like that before, all cold and dangerous, almost as if she was some kind of threat to him. Her heart skipped a few beats and for once it wasn't because of her attraction to him. He actually looked menacing, she thought faintly.

Vlad's eyes only seemed to deepen in their blackness. "Tell me what she said." He snarled the words at her, the inhumanly deep and harsh tones making his voice almost unrecognisable. It wasn't a request. It was an order.

Scarlett's temper sparked back into life. How dare Vlad order her around?! Tilting her chin defiantly, Scarlett glared back at him, her sapphire blue blazing into his jet black. "Sorry, Your Highness," she emphasised his title with such venom that a lesser vampire would have flinched, "I wasn't aware that I was one of your subjects."

Ingrid laughed mirthlessly. "You are so dead." She harrumphed with indignation before falling silent as both of them gestured at her to shut up.

Vlad's eyes flickered back to his usual clear blue. "Please," he said abruptly.

It was sharply spoken but Scarlett accepted it with a stiff nod. She continued to hold his gaze in a challenging manner. Her voice was clear and confident as she recited the translation of the prophecy.

"_In the dark depths of the city of knowledge lies a secret, _

_Weary and bloodstained are those who seek it, _

_As day becomes night and terror becomes thrall, _

_A star from the heavens will cause the darkness to fall."_

* * *

"You're certain?" Even as he spoke, Vlad was aware that his voice still contained echoes of metallic undertones. He hoped that his carefully blank face gave no indication as to his inner thoughts. Scarlett's translation was as close to perfection as his advisors had managed. It was unnerving.

Her voice was cool as she replied. "Yes, of course."

"Darkness will fall?" Ingrid repeated the words thoughtfully.

Even with the warmth of Charlie in his arms, Robin shivered. "The fall of Rome." His dark eyes were full of worry.

Ingrid sighed with mock frustration. "No, you idiot," she sneered, "It means that darkness is going to descend upon your stinking breather species when vampirekind dominates the world." She cast a confident smirk at Vlad. "When I say vampirekind, I mean us Draculas of course."

Vlad raised a cynical eyebrow in response.

Robin was nothing if persistent. He shook his head in disagreement. "Nah, think about it, the Bathius Blood papers," he murmured contemplatively, "That sounded like some kind of super weapon to me."

Vlad held up his hand as if ordering them both to quieten down. "As I said it is ambiguous." He glanced at each one of them in turn, his gaze lingering longer than necessary on Scarlett for reasons that had nothing to do with his personal feelings, "This translation, this knowledge can never leave this room or you will be in mortal danger." The authoritative tone in his voice left them without any doubt that this was a direct command. He didn't bother to clarify what mortal danger they would face and whether he, as the Chosen One and Grand High Vampire, was included as a threat.

**Chapter 35 teaser**

_'Throwing back his hood, Vladimir Dracula gave her a bloodthirsty smile...'_

_**ps Apologies if my Latin wasn't perfect... xo**  
_


	37. Chapter 35

_**I'd like to say a special thank you to Alucard Gnuoy who very kindly translated the prophecy into Latin for me – a considerable improvement on my dismal efforts. Thanks very much! **_

_**Bit action packed this chapter. In advance, sub fusc is the traditional academic attire worn by Oxbridge students. A quick Google search should provide you with an image of the uniform. Needless to say I have applied some artistic licence. If you ever have any questions about DiF, please don't hesitate to ask or PM me. I don't bite – I leave that sort of behaviour to my characters...**_

_**Check out HyaHya's story What Lives Forever... : )**_

_**Thank you as always for the reviews. It makes me so happy and excited when you tell me you can't wait for the next chapter. Always drives me on!**_

_**Hope you enjoy! xo **_

**Chapter 35**

Winterville was one of the few remaining Oxford colleges which insisted on the traditional attire of sub fusc when attending tutorials. The ongoing battle over sub fusc in the university – a symbol of Oxford's elitism versus a charming tradition – barely touched the inside walls of one of its oldest and most traditional colleges. Personally, Scarlett loved the uniform especially the academic gowns. After all, who didn't appreciate the opportunity to swan around in huge black robes and pretend to be Batman or a student at Hogwarts? The son and heir to Count Dracula apparently.

Vlad was looking down at his clothing with a scowl. "Is this really necessary?"

Scarlett nodded. "Absolutely," she said in a firm voice that warned against any further argument. Silently, she thanked the creators of sub fusc a million times. The sight of Vlad in a suit and academic gown was one memory that she would cherish – he looked devastatingly gorgeous.

Beside her, Robin tugged half-heartedly at his unravelling bowtie. "Yeah, it's college rules. Teverson is super strict about it too, remember that time my socks were blue?" He and Scarlett shared a grimace.

Scarlett tutted at the mangled mess Robin was making of his bowtie. "Come here," she ordered as she began untying and retying the cream material. "Here you go," she smiled in satisfaction as she produced a tidy bow. "Not as good as Charlie's, but it will have to do."

Vlad gave Robin a jealous glower; sometimes he disliked the closeness of his best friend's relationship with Scarlett. "How come your robes are different?" he complained gesturing at Scarlett's robes which were lined with red satin in vivid contrast to his own in plain black.

Scarlett glanced down self-consciously. "This is a scholar's gown," she answered with a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "It just means I did well in my first year exams."

"In other words, she's a geek," Robin whispered with deliberate loudness into Vlad's ear.

Scarlett gave Robin a look of mock annoyance. "Whatever, rugby boy," she shot back.

"Oi! That was too far, you crossed a line," Robin clutched his chest melodramatically. "At least ..." He put on a girlishly high voice, "Oh my gosh, twelfth century Latin! My favourite!"

Scarlett swatted his arm. "You're such a prat," she said affectionately before turning back to Vlad with an anxious frown. "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to end up as dust."

Vlad pulled his hooded cape around him and smirked confidently. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, Vlad's dad has done this loads of times," Robin reassured her.

Scarlett's doubts about the plan were written all over her face.

Robin listed the following points on his fingers, "The cape is made of UV resistant material, he's wearing factor 100 sun cream and we're taking the indoors route." He gave Scarlett a pat on the shoulder. "This might be the only way we can get hold of Teverson. She won't be expecting Vlad at a morning tutorial and we really need to find out how far she has gotten with the research."

Scarlett glanced uncertainly between the two boys before her gaze settled on Vlad. "You're only going to hypnotise her?" The concern in her voice was now for Professor Teverson.

Vlad nodded. "I won't hurt her," he promised. "We need to know what she is doing with the research. I have a feeling that she knows much more than she is letting on."

* * *

It was the sort of crisp autumn morning that Professor Teverson loved. A slight overnight frost had left its silvery traces upon the fallen leaves and the coldness of the morning air had a certain bracing quality. Now more than ever she appreciated the harsh glare of the morning sunlight.

After this morning's tutorial, she would be able to spend the rest of the day conducting and writing up her research. A list of further possible locations for the source lay in the drawer of her desk and she was keen to get started. Like most academics, Professor Teverson preferred to immerse herself in research rather than teach undergraduates. However, she was very fond of her second year historians, there were some exceptionally bright students in that year group. Unlike the finalists, but then again Nigel had selected that year. Later, she was meeting with Father James for some afternoon tea and what would hopefully be a reassuring chat.

She glanced up at the sound of chatter and footsteps outside the seminar room, a smile of genuine delight spread across her face as Robin Branagh stepped into the sunlit room with his usual enthusiastic grin. Robin was one of her most intelligent students, a pleasure to tutor. A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips as he happily sat down in his usual seat by the sunlit window; the boy had not yet been corrupted. Her smile froze as a caped figure followed Robin into the seminar room. With a snap of his fingers, the curtains drew across the windows blocking the sunlight and plunging the room into semi-darkness. Throwing back his hood, Vladimir Dracula gave her a bloodthirsty smile, his voice mockingly polite. "Good morning Professor Teverson."

* * *

Head throbbing, Professor Teverson reached for her cup of coffee. Much to her disconcertment the black liquid was tepid at best. How strange, she had only boiled the kettle five minutes ago. She found herself rubbing her eyes with a tired sigh, why did she feel so sleepy all of a sudden?

"Are you ok Professor?"

Professor Teverson glanced up at the owner of the anxious voice. Scarlett Collins was watching her with a worried expression. "Yes, perfectly so," Professor Teverson briskly opened her folder. The papers were organised slightly different from how she had ordered them this morning. She inhaled sharply and glanced at the clock. The hour and a half tutorial was almost over and she had nothing but very vague, almost dreamlike memories of discussing the 1381 Peasants' Revolt.

Sudden sleepiness. Unexplained loss of time. Disorganised papers. Professor Teverson abruptly stood up, the chair legs screeching against the polished wooden floor. Her stomach churned with fear as she looked at the seemingly innocent faces of her students. The harsh white light of the morning sun shone in through the open windows and Professor Teverson shivered in terror. Nowhere was safe.

* * *

Scarlett and Robin watched as Professor Teverson strode across the fountain quad towards her office. Scarlett shook her head, her misgivings about the entire situation growing more by the second. "I don't know Robin; I think she picked up that something was wrong." She sighed heavily, "All of this sneaking about, it feels wrong."

Robin gave her a sharp look. "If she has doubts then we keep lying. You heard Vlad; if you lie with enough confidence then usually people will accept it as the truth."

"Hmm." Scarlett's mouth twisted with disapproval. The look in Professor Teverson's eyes... it was as if she was scared. Really scared. Terrified in fact. Confusion and annoyance, Scarlett would have understood those reactions but terror? Why would Professor Teverson be terrified?

"Scarlett!"

Hearing her name shouted across the quad made Scarlett turn. Tamara was half walking, half jogging along the cloisters. Scarlett swivelled around on her heels before remembering with a muffled curse that she needed to head in Tamara's direction. Well, she would only look like an idiot if she turned around now. Resolutely, Scarlett lifted her chin and marched in the opposite direction of where she needed to go.

A bemused Robin tagged along after her, tugging at the trailing sleeve of her robes. "Er Scarlett mate, your room is in that direction."

"Shut up," Scarlett hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

Tamara reached them with ease, flicking out her long dark hair before tying it up in sleek ponytail, Dressed in her netball uniform, she looked every inch the healthy wholesome college girl. Scarlett noted with resentment that her athletic friend wasn't even out of breath. In comparison to Tamara's sporty slimness, Scarlett felt like a black and red elephant in her academic gown.

Robin, sensing that his presence was not required, smiled nervously at both girls. "Just off to meet someone. Alright? Great. Bye." He made a hasty departure.

Scarlett tightened her grip on her books and deliberately looked away from Tamara, focusing her angry glare on the partially dismantled water fountain. "What do you want?" she demanded, not caring if she sounded rude. It still hurt what Tamara had said on Friday night. All that stuff about Scarlett being frigid and cold, her friend really knew how to hit her weak spots.

Tamara fiddled with her hair, the gesture betraying her nervousness. "I'm sorry ok?" Her words came out sounding slightly defensive.

Scarlett gave her a look of contempt. "Yes, you sound it."

Tamara shrugged awkwardly. "Look, can't we just forget it? I'm really sorry, just it's been a hard term and I was drunk." She almost sounded sulky. "Anyway you threw wine over me so ..."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed. "So...?" she asked in a dangerous voice.

Tamara shrugged her shoulders dismissively, not bothering to finish her sentence.

"Just forget it," Scarlett snapped crossly. She stormed off towards her room not caring anymore about what any of the on-lookers thought. If anything, her bad temper just increased as she stamped up the worn stone steps to her room. Who did Tamara think she was? Did she think Scarlett was some sort of idiot? That she would take whatever Tamara threw at her? That she was some sort of emotional punch bag? As for Robin, how dare he walk off like that? How could he so stupid? Couldn't he see that she wanted nothing to do with Tamara? No, it was Vlad who was stupid. Putting it all about the college and then expecting her to take the blame from his rejects. By the time Scarlett wrenched open her door, she was simmering with rage. Slamming the door closed behind her, she opened her mouth to blast both boys with a scolding that they would never forget.

The sight of Vlad, still fully dressed in sub fusc and lounging on her bed knocked all the breath out of her body. Dimly, she noted that Robin was nowhere to be seen, clever boy, he knew she was furious. Vlad was flicking through a book, his pale fingers fanning out elegantly against the colourful cover. Oh but he was insanely gorgeous. She really couldn't blame those other girls ...

Vlad peeked over the book's pages, "I don't think that the sub fusc was actually necessary." His voice was silken and seductive. His gaze swept over her body in an almost predatory manner as he tossed the book aside. The smile playing upon his full lips was deliciously sexy.

Slightly dazed, Scarlett took a moment to catch up with him. "Oh it was," she replied breathlessly before blushing wildly at how adamant she sounded.

Vlad's laugh was positively wicked. "It's not quite evening dress but I still think you owe me." He snapped his fingers and Scarlett's pinned up hair fell around her. She watched as Vlad took a deep breath of the air, his eyes darkening suddenly. He shifted over slightly on the bed and patted the spot beside him. "Come here," he commanded softly.

No. At least that was what Scarlett meant to say. Because just moments ago she was furious with him and they had work to do and anyway strictly speaking he should be asleep right now and... seriously how was she expected to resist someone so sinful?

* * *

As she watched the two men flick through the folders on the desk, the magnitude of what she had just done began to slowly dawn upon Professor Teverson. She had just handed over her entire research to the Slayers Guild. If she was honest, she hadn't actually thought about what she was doing as she crammed folders into her bag and drove at what must have been an illegal speed to the Oxford headquarters. The terror of realising that Dracula had been able to access her during the daylight hours, that her students had been corrupted into doing the evil creature's bidding and that she was much more vulnerable than she had ever conceived, even in her most paranoid moments, had simply taken over. Even now, her hands were shaking as she fumbled around in her handbag for a clean tissue.

"And this is everything?"

Professor Teverson found it difficult to meet the eyes of the older slayer. There was something cold and dead about his gaze. Every time he spoke to her or found him watching her, the sense of unease increased. Perhaps she was being unkind, after all these were the men who placed their lives in mortal danger on a daily basis to defend humanity against the vampire threat. It was only inevitable that the tainted nature of their work would bring out the darker aspects of their personalities.

Professor Teverson glanced at the younger slayer. He flashed her a reassuring smile. Yes, she liked the younger slayer, his brown eyes were warm and kind. She directed her answer to him instead. "Yes, everything." She glanced nervously at the elegant gold watch on her wrist. "I have an afternoon appointment." The prospect of meeting Father James and revealing what she had just done filled her with dread. The priest would be furiously disappointed by her act of betrayal. She really wasn't certain how she was going to handle this.

The younger man nodded understandingly and Professor Teverson half smiled at him as she rose to her feet. A meaty hand clenched around her wrist, slamming her hand painfully against the hard metal table. The older slayer had also risen to his feet, he towered menacingly over her as he forced her back into her seat. "Oh no Professor," he emphasised her academic title with disgust, "You're not going anywhere."

* * *

The silky material shimmered in the sunlight as Robin carefully wrapped it around Charlie's neck before tying a rather large unsightly knot. Charlie leant over his arms to take another bite out of her pizza slice. "It's still daylight," she said with her mouth half full.

Robin affectionately nuzzled her scarf covered neck before reaching for a pizza slice of his own. "I just want you to be safe."

Charlie smiled down at him. Sitting on the steps to her lab, eating garlicky pizza with her slayer boyfriend in the sun, she couldn't possibly feel any safer. "I don't need argentilium sprays and scarves," she reminded him gently, "I am a medium, I can protect myself."

Robin tugged on the scarf to bring her face down to meet his. "Like I said, I just want you to be safe," he brushed his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

* * *

Scarlett lightly trailed her fingers down Vlad's bare chest until she reached the buckle of his belt. Vlad must have sensed her sudden hesitation because he caught her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. "Aha," his voice was stern between kisses, "What makes you think that I'm that sort of vampire?" Scarlett couldn't help giggling and Vlad pulled back to gave her a wounded look. "Actually, I am quite shy..." he began with mock indignation but he failed to keep a straight face.

Scarlett sighed softly as Vlad pulled her closer for a cuddle. It felt strange to be cuddled and hugged after all these years. Usually, Scarlett didn't like people to get too close – emotionally and physically. Physical contact always seemed rather dangerous, it left you vulnerable. It didn't feel like that with Vlad. She felt safe and protected in his arms, she didn't feel threatened by him, the fact that he was physically stronger than her wasn't scary. All the more strange when you put a label like 'vampire' on him.

"So..." Vlad snuck his arm over her waist and retrieved the book that he had discarded earlier, "what is an Oxford historian doing reading Horrible Histories? Hmm - Vile Victorians? I thought these were for kids?"

Scarlett tried to snatch the book out of his hand but he was too quick for her. "Some of the best things are created with children in mind." Sliding her body up against his, she pressed a light kiss against his collarbone. Distracted, Vlad's grip on the book loosened enough for her to quickly snatch it from his hands. "Besides, I love the Horrible Histories books. Always have."

Vlad pulled her closer again. "Hmm, confession time, I never really liked History. It always seemed kind of boring, listing lots of dates, royal lineages – and was just Dad!" He grinned at her look of outrage – how could anyone think History was boring? "But sometimes Bert-" Abruptly, Vlad fell silent, changing almost instantly from happy and relaxed to moody and scowling.

It was on the tip of Scarlett's tongue to ask him about this Bertrand but she resisted. Asking Vlad about something he had clearly indicated his unwillingness to talk about would only make him feel worse. "I think our study break is over," she said gently. She was confident that Vlad would start to feel better once they got some positive results from the research.

Vlad smiled wistfully. "Yeah, I guess so." He reached up to entangle his fingers in her hair, skimming his mouth over her throat before claiming her lips once again. "But a few more minutes won't hurt."

* * *

The half-empty china cup rattled as Father James pushed it away. He glanced at the darkening sky outside the cosy cafe. Professor Teverson was nearly two hours late, most unusual for a woman who was fastidious about time keeping. As a regular patron of the cafe, Father James had been more than content to have a pot of tea, review his work and wait for her. However, it was nearly five o clock and he needed to return to the Church in order to prepare for evening mass.

He frowned as he reconsidered the abrupt, anxious tone of the email that she had sent him late last night. The academic had been acting out of character recently, he had to admit he was becoming deeply concerned about her. The task that she had been set was a stressful one and he had been rather zealous about the terms and conditions especially when she had begun to question the Order. With a weary sigh, he picked up his books and made his way out of the cafe. The last thing he needed right now was an overwrought academic having a meltdown. He would call on her tomorrow morning at Winterville College, check that everything was how it should be.

* * *

"I've tried to apologise!" Tamara hated the whiny edge in her voice. She didn't do emotional displays, she always kept it cool, men found emotion off putting, it was far better to remain aloof and distant.

Disdain flickered over his handsome face. "Then you must keep trying." His voice was cool and disinterested, exactly how she had intended to sound.

She watched him move around her room, he was like a caged animal, all grace, muscle and frustration. She couldn't help the way her eyes savoured every inch of him, the broadness of his shoulders, the gold signet ring he wore on his right hand, the way his dark wavy hair curled against his neck. He was so hot, so much fitter than that pathetic Vlad Count, with this man on her arm she, not Scarlett, would once again be the object of their friends' admiration and envy.

She closed her eyes briefly and counted to ten. Upon opening them, she found him watching her with a condensing smirk. "How?" She was careful to modulate her voice so that it was softer than before. No more whinging, she warned herself.

He leant against her wardrobe, folding his muscular arms around his chest. "Write to her. I'll even tell you what to say. I can be very persuasive." There was a sinister edge to his words that made Tamara shiver with delight.

Tamara made sure that her skirt rode up high on her thighs as she sat down at her desk and crossed her legs seductively. "What am I? Some sort of secretary?" she pouted flirtatiously.

He moved impossibly fast across the room, his arms on either side of her, leaning over her, so close that Tamara could feel the chill coming off his body yet not close enough, not touching. "You are whatever I tell you to be."

**Chapter 36 teaser**

_'Tell me, woman where are the cupcakes?'_


	38. Chapter 36

**_Thank you for the lovely reviews : ) _**

**_I have a couple of DiF related one-shots lurking around in my mind, I might try to get one written and published before Tuesday but it might not be very popular with Vlerin supporters... ah well!_**

**_ Hope you guys are having a lovely weekend and that you enjoy this chapter xo_  
**

**Chapter 36**

Breathers were idiots. No, that was unfair. His friends were idiots. Vlad had told them that a four hundred year old psychopathic vampire was hunting them down and what did they do? They mulled some wine, bought marshmallows and ended off to a campfire in the middle of nowhere. Yep, definitely idiots.

"I can't believe we are actually doing this," Vlad muttered between clenched fangs as he trampled through the long grass. In his arms he carried an assortment of blankets, flasks and food supplies. Charlie fully believed in the motto 'be prepared'.

"Oh stop complaining," Robin said cheerfully, tossing him a grin over his shoulder. "I remember a time when you would have jumped through hoops for the opportunity to have a sing-along by a campfire."

Vlad glared at the back of Robin's head. That was the problem with having a best friend who had known you for so long. They remembered a little too much sometimes. "I was thirteen!" he protested. Back then, the greatest danger he had ever faced was Renfield's cooking. A warm hand curled its way around his arm. Even through his leather jacket, Vlad's skin prickled with electricity at Scarlett's touch. He turned his head slightly to be met with a dazzling smile.

"Isn't this exciting?" Scarlett gave his arm an affectionate squeeze.

Vlad suppressed a groan of irritation. "No," he hissed bad-temperedly, "This is dangerous." He directed a black scowl at Robin, "Why is nobody listening to me?"

Robin gave him a wide grin. Vlad recognised that grin. It was the one that said you sound/look/act exactly like the Count.

"Oh shut up!" Vlad retorted.

Robin's grin only widened.

"Oh come on Mr Grumpy," Scarlett cajoled gently, "This is going to be so much fun. I love campfires on Port Meadow. It's practically an Oxford tradition. We've got mulled wine, firelight..." She pressed a playful kiss against the leather of his jacket before gazing up at him, her eyes sensuously dark in the dim light.

Butterflies fluttered in Vlad's stomach. How did she do that? He caught himself before he almost smiled. "Seriously Scarlett," he swept an arm around at the landscape, the empty darkness of Port Meadow, the mist rolling in from the north, "This is like the before scene in a horror film."

Robin's elbow nudged Vlad enthusiastically in the ribs. "I know. It's awesome!"

* * *

The delicious smell of burning sugar filled the air as marshmallows melted in the heat of the campfire. Having eaten as much sugar as humanly possible, Charlie sighed contentedly as she leant back against Robin's chest. Shifting slightly so he could wrap his arm around her more securely, Robin leant forward to toast another line of marshmallows.

"You can't possibly eat anymore," she murmured sleepily, lifting her hand to caress his cheek, rejoicing in the mischievous smile that spread over Robin's lips. Even after nearly a year together, Robin still made her heart skip beats just by smiling at her. She had voiced her doubts about this evening's plans; heading to a deserted spot by the river on a cold misty night sounded foolhardy even without Vlad's murderous enemies lurking in the dark. But Robin had turned his big brown eyes on her, their dark warm depths full of hope as he earnestly explained that this was officially the best idea ever. Of course she had given in.

Robin pressed sticky lips against her fingers. "I'm sure we can think of some way to burn off all this sugar." He gently tilted her face upwards so he could kiss her.

Charlie giggled softly against his lips. "Hmm, yes, we have all this stuff to carry back."

"Is that so?" Robin pulled back to trace a gentle finger around the outline of her mouth. "In that case, I better stock up on sugar reserves. Tell me, woman where are the cupcakes?" He ended this question with a mock growl, his fingers brushing lightly against her sides where she was most ticklish causing her to squeal in delight.

* * *

"Relax."

Certain that guilt was written all over his face, Vlad resisted the urge to turn his head in the direction of Scarlett's voice. He felt her settle down on the log next to him, a flask being nudged into his resisting fingers, her hand trailing along his jacket to wrap an arm around his waist. Sighing in defeat, Vlad placed his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer. "Sorry." They both knew that he wasn't really apologising.

Scarlett exhaled slowly in frustration. "Vlad, it's been a week," she said softly. "Surely this Bertrand would have made a move by now."

Vlad shook his head firmly. "No, he wouldn't. He's too clever for that." He could understand why Scarlett was losing patience with him. The romantic in her only saw a blazing fire on a cold misty night, the perfect opportunity to snuggle up with her lover and exchange gentle kisses like many of the other couples. Vlad, on the other fang, only saw a potential massacre – the situation couldn't have been more ideal for an ambush attack. His hand tightened around the stake in his pocket. He had to be ready to protect them all even if they were idiots.

"Vladimir, my darling," Scarlett's lips brushed his ear.

In the split second it took for Vlad to turn his head, Scarlett moved forward, crushing her mouth against his, her tongue immediately slipping through his surprised lips, a hand gliding up into his hair. Without thinking, Vlad responded with fierce passion, the stake slipping out of his hand as he reached up to caress her neck. She tasted of spiced wine, burnt sugar... he could smell the faint trace of smoke upon her skin, her tongue was expertly teasing his in a way that made him almost moan out loud. She had certainly been paying attention to his techniques. As she moved back slightly, he could feel her lips curling upwards in a smile.

"Got your attention now?" In the firelight, her eyes glittered darkly, almost wickedly.

"Hmm," Vlad licked his lips with deliberate slowness, savouring the lingering taste of her upon them, "Maybe..." He bent his head to kiss her again before something, or rather the absence of someone, caught his attention. He pulled back abruptly. "Where's Ingrid?"

* * *

The cold whiteness of the mist embraced the vampire standing alone in the darkness. Watching the golden glow of the campfire from a relatively safe distance, Bertrand du Fortunesa caught the trace of a once familiar scent – musky perfume. He closed his eyes briefly, remembering the firm coldness of Ingrid's lips against his. Unbidden, the memory of their first kiss flashed through his mind, his hand encircling her wrist, pulling her towards him, the way he had smirked down at her, _'We had better make it realistic', _ how her eyes had widened slightly before he caught her mouth with his, her lipstick had tasted like cherries...

He should have known better than to get involved with a Dracula. He should have maintained a professional distance from the Chosen One and his family. What had started as a game, with malice on all sides, had developed a momentum of its own. Even when their dalliances had served their purpose, when Vlad had finally fallen from grace into the waiting arms of Esmeralda, he and Ingrid had continued to play with fire.

Beautiful, devious and treacherous – Ingrid was the perfect vampire. He, well Bertrand guessed that he must have at least intrigued her with his frosty demeanour. They didn't speak of things such as feelings. If Bertrand found himself wondering why Ingrid opened her chamber door to him, he pushed the thought away. Such emotions were not a part of his life. Never had been. Never could be.

Bertrand opened his eyes again. Even Ingrid had been about Vlad. Everything in his unlife led back to the Chosen One. Everything that drove Bertrand on, his reasons for existing, the haunting images in his dreams, his ambitions for the future, everything led back to Vladimir Dracula.

Bertrand couldn't be certain when exactly this shift in focus occurred. It would have been easy to pinpoint the destruction of Sethius as a significant turning point but that was simply not true. His preoccupation with the Chosen One had begun long before he had even met Vlad. He had spent four centuries travelling the world, searching for a mythical person. He had studied relentlessly, skulked in the shadows of politics, even underwent intense physical torment in order to become the very best, to become worthy of serving his future leader. Vlad hadn't been what Bertrand expected. Wide eyed, almost childish in his refusal to open the book, fiercely protective of those he loved – Vlad had been infuriating and perplexing from the very start.

Carefree laughter shattered Bertrand's thoughts, lifting his head sharply, he observed shadows moving around the fire, heard the strings of a guitar being strummed gently and caught the trace of Vlad's scent on the stillness of the night air. Bertrand would have liked to lean forward, taste the crispness of Vlad's aftershave on his tongue, treasure the knowledge that the Chosen One was seeking him out in the mist but now was not the time. Now was too early. He hadn't spent nearly a year plotting his return only to mishandle it at the last moment.

_Soon Vlad, soon._

Bertrand almost said the words out loud before launching himself up into the cold autumn night.

* * *

Lightning crackled across the hidden sky as Vlad sensed Bertrand's presence in the mist. Snarling, he lunged forward into the darkness, stake raised, ready to strike but already it was too late. The scent was scattered, Bertrand had fled the scene. Hissing in frustration, Vlad's grasp on the stake tightened causing splinters to break off and pierce his skin. Vlad barely noticed the pain as he contemplated the motives of his former tutor.

Bertrand was taunting him. A wisp here, a scent there, a fleeting movement in the shadows... Ever since the bonfire, they had been playing a game of hide and seek. Vlad wasn't quite sure anymore which one of them was the hunter in this game. Revealing himself to Vlad at the fairground had been a tactical decision. Bertrand had wanted him to know that he was undead and in Oxford. Vlad didn't waste time wondering how Bertrand had tracked him down; finding people had been Bertrand's speciality for nearly four centuries. He had spent considerably more time worrying and trying to figure what Bertrand wanted. He wouldn't hesitate to drive a stake through Bertrand's heart, the older vampire had to know this, so why would he reveal himself? He must have a plan, some form of revenge that he had been plotting all this time.

The innocence of Scarlett's words came back to him, _'It's been a week...Bertrand would have made a move by now'. _Vlad laughed bitterly to himself. If only she knew! But she didn't and that was his fault, he was deliberately keeping it to himself because he didn't want to scare any of them. Although, given their idiocy tonight, perhaps a good dose of terror was what they needed.

Vlad walked slowly back to the campfire, deep in thought, it took him a couple of seconds to register the heavy scent of blood in the air. His temper flared. Curse Ingrid! His sister never could keep her fangs to herself.

* * *

Dazed, Adam stumbled slightly, half falling on the nearest figure to him. He squinted up at Vlad Count – smug bloody bastard – before mumbling an apology. Vlad's hands caught his shoulders, his grip was surprisingly cold.

"Ingrid!" Vlad's voice sounded kind of weird. All sort of snarly.

"What's going on?" Adam slurred. Something warm and wet was trickling down his neck. In annoyance, he lifted a hand to brush it away. When he glanced down, he was confused by the red stains on his hand. Was that blood? But how could he be bleeding? He wasn't hurt although he did feel all sort of numb and tingly at the same time.

Ingrid's voice echoed in the background. She had an amazing voice, that Ingrid, all sexy and rich. But the words were a jumble. Adam knew those vodka jellies had been a bad idea. The last time he eaten Jessie's vodka jellies, he had woken up on the lawn of the college next door wearing nothing but a top hat, a bow tie and his socks... the porters had not been amused. He began to snicker out loud at his own thoughts, swaying on his feet as Vlad's grip tightened.

Through the blurriness, he heard Vlad say his name. His voice was strangely seductive. Must be how he got laid so much. "Adam, look at me." What a tosser! Look at him. Adam scoffed, could Vlad be any more of a freak? Adam raised his head, his mouth opening as he prepared to tell Vlad Count exactly what he thought of him before he was caught by the vivid greenness of the eyes staring into his...

* * *

Ingrid licked her bloody fingertips before sighing in exaggerated satisfaction. Vlad was glaring at her, arms folded tightly across his chest, his eyes gleaming red and was that a hint of fang at the corners of his mouth? The current Grand High Vampire could be so uptight about minor violations. Or perhaps, the scent of blood was finally getting to her sanctimonious little brother? Ingrid couldn't resist giving him a smirk. "B negative, my favourite," she drawled.

Vlad shook his head despairingly. "You know the rules. The ceasefire means no biting, no slaying." He sounded as weary of repeating the words as Ingrid was of hearing them - almost.

"I didn't bite him." Ingrid held up her hand which glittered with silverware. All it had taken was a quick slice through his skin. Admittedly, it was nowhere near as satisfying as sinking your fangs into their flesh but nonetheless it was fresh blood. "Creative interpretation of the rules."

Vlad growled angrily. "That's not the point and you know it!"

Ingrid stepped backwards and into Ryan who as ever stood protectively behind her. Leaning back, she pressed her body against his, raising her hand to stroke his face in a lingering caress. Ryan froze under her touch, unaccustomed to this level of affection from his mistress. Ingrid smiled provocatively, "I'm just taking care of the one half fang you let me keep." She watched as Vlad's gaze inevitably flickered to and then away from Ryan's eyes. She felt a spiteful surge of pleasure at the haunted expression which flitted across her brother's face. Ah, his guilt over Erin Noble. Deserved him right. He should suffer like she had suffered. Why should Vlad have anyone when she had lost Will?

"Besides," Ingrid let her hand fall from Ryan's face, her caress had served its purpose, she moved forward to brush past Vlad's shoulder, "after recent events, I think you can cut me some slack." The past week had been rather amusing, taunting her brother, watching his guilt wrestle with his principles, knowing that at any moment she could reveal his true nature to his little breather pets.

Vlad's arm shot out, blocking her path; even for a vampire his touch was unnaturally cold. Ingrid had to steel herself as Vlad's fangs brushed against her ear, "Don't push me, Ingrid." The words were quietly but firmly spoken. Glancing up into the red depths of his eyes, Ingrid involuntarily shivered with fear.

**Chapter 37 teaser**

'_Everywhere you look, the Church is there. Right from the very beginning.'_


	39. Chapter 37

**_This chapter is dedicated to Charchisto; C was the first person to review DiF and just a couple of weeks ago she was also the 100th! This chapter basically ravages the history books and I know C loves History. Thanks for all your support! Check out her stories especially Season 1 Outtakes which is one of my favs!_**

**_ Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews – it really means so much. _**

**_ I've recently posted a one-shot 'Temptation' - bit racy/angsty but some of you might be interested in reading more about the background to DiF.  
_**

**_Hope you guys enjoy this!_**

**_ xo_**

**Chapter 37**

"You look tired." As soon as the words left Robin's mouth, he regretted them. Leaning against the door frame, he gave Scarlett his best puppy-dog look.

She sighed with annoyance but gestured for him to come in. It was clear from her crumpled bed and slightly out of it state that she had been indulging in that most treasured aspect of student life – the daytime nap. Robin was grateful for this, usually when he said the 'You look tired' line it resulted in a sharply delivered lecture about manners.

"I'll get the kettle on." Robin set his assortment of books and papers down on the coffee table and began preparing tea.

Gratefully, Scarlett dropped back on to her bed and wrapped the duvet around her shoulders. "Thanks Robin."

A few minutes later, Robin handed her a steaming cup of freshly brewed tea. He noted with concern the purplish shadows under her eyes. She would bite his head off if he said it again but she really did look tired. Instead he brandished a packet of chocolate digestives. "I think a sugar hit is required."

Normally Scarlett would have at least put up some pretence of resisting temptation but today she immediately took one and dunked in her tea. "You're my hero," she gave him a wan smile as she nibbled around the edges of her biscuit.

"Yeah I know." Robin threw himself onto the sofa. He liked hanging out in the girls' rooms. They always smelt so much better than his and they had unlimited snack supplies. If you needed chocolate, you could be certain that one of the girls had a stash hidden away somewhere.

Scarlett began dunking and nibbling her second chocolate biscuit. "So, is this a social or business call?"

"Mainly business. I think I've got us a new lead." Robin grinned at the way her eyes lit up. "Now I know I was supposed to be cross referencing any building works done in Oxford during the time the fountain got vandalised but after a few days I got bored."

Scarlett tried her best not to smile. "Robin you know how important it is to do the cross-referencing," she began sternly.

"And you know how boring it is," Robin retorted. In the past couple of weeks they had been able to assess and understand the limits of Professor Teverson's work. It appeared that the research had hit a key stumbling block. They were all confident of the source's location in Oxford but no closer to determining its precise hiding place. Professor Teverson had narrowed it down to the fountain in Winterville College but recent excavation work had completely disproved that theory. One way forward was to cross reference building works in the hope that one of them might be the newest location. It was a task that they all disliked.

Scarlett shrugged in acknowledgement of Robin's defence. "Well, this had better be good." She reached for another chocolate biscuit.

* * *

The metal blade shone brightly beneath the candlelight. With a sigh of satisfaction, Dmitri slid the sword back into its sheath and picked up his polishing cloth.

"You take very good care of the weapons." The Chosen One was just finishing his cooling down exercises.

Dmitri smiled briefly. "It must be my military training Your Highness."

Vlad wiped his face with a towel; it had been a particularly gruelling training session, at his request of course. Since the supposed survival of Bertrand du Fortunesa, the Chosen One had thrown himself back into his training with a grim determination that bordered on fanatical. Draping the towel around his neck, Vlad moved across the room towards him. "I have a question for you Dmitri."

Dmitri bowed his head in acquiescence. "Your Highness."

"We both know that I was reluctant to accept you as a protector." Vlad' smile was apologetic. "However, I must admit that in the past couple of months you've impressed me. You have taken steps to make my unlife in Oxford much more agreeable and convenient than it would have otherwise been. As you are aware, I need to return to Transylvania in a few days' time in order to perform the initiation ceremony for my new guards. I'd prefer it if you stayed in Oxford to guard my friends."

Dmitri gave a regretful shake of his head. "Your Highness, I do not seek to disobey you but I doubt that your father would allow me to undertake such a task."

"Ah yes, Dad." Vlad frowned but it appeared almost automatic rather than filled with any real annoyance. "I'm going to ask him to release you from the blood oath."

Dmitri's lips twitched slightly in amusement before he could control himself. "Your Highness," he began patiently before falling silent as Vlad raised his hand.

"He might do. If I were to replace the blood oath." A flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he observed Dmitri's confused expression. "I'm not like my Dad. I would like to ask your permission to bind you in a blood oath to me."

Dmitri gave him a startled look. "Me?" The word slipped out in his surprise.

Before he could recover, Vlad resumed speaking. "It would take place during the ceremony along with the rest of my guards." He mistook Dmitri's stunned silence for anxiety. "I assure you that I'm not trying to get rid of you again. I would prefer for you to remain in Oxford and serve as one of my guards. That is unless you would prefer to leave in which case I would grant your freedom immediately."

"I haven't been trained," Dmitri said slowly as if he were still in shock. He had been one of the vampires selected for the training process but he had been unable to complete it once the Count had made him enter into the blood oath.

"You have more than proven yourself to me." Vlad folded his arms meaningfully across his chest, it was obvious that he wanted an answer.

As the shock subsided, Dmitri gave Vlad a wide grin, something which the younger vampire had not been expecting. The Chosen One and Grand High Vampire wanted to form a blood oath with him. He was to be one of his guards without even having completed the training. All at the personal request of Vladimir Dracula himself! It was an honour beyond anything Dmitri could have envisaged. Aware that he was grinning like an idiot, Dmitri rapidly assumed his usual blank expression. "I grant my permission Your Highness. I will continue to serve you."

Vlad gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "Cool."

* * *

A moment of self-doubt struck Robin. He really hoped that he hadn't just wasted the past three days following this particular idea. "Right, ok, so you know the way the prophecy was told to a priest?"

Scarlett's mouth was full so she simply nodded.

"Well that got me thinking, it seems like the Catholic Church has been playing a significant role in the background. Everywhere you look, the Church is there. Right from the very beginning." Now that he had started to explain, Robin was feeling more confident. "The prophecy was told to a priest. It was recorded and maintained by the Church until it fell into the hands of Katane clan during the battles of Granada. The priest who carried it to England was Catholic. The monarch who allowed it to be stored in Oxford was Catholic."

Scarlett sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Well the Church was one of the most powerful and important institutions during those centuries."

"Yeah, I know but this is where my knowledge of the Slayers Guild came in handy." Robin picked up a biscuit of his own and dunked it in his tea. "When I started to train as a slayer, I read the entire history of the Slayers Guild," his smile was only mildly embarrassed, if anyone would understand his moment of geekiness, it was Scarlett, "They had all these books and leaflets that no-one else seemed bothered about. It's a completely secular and military organisation, has been for centuries but what most slayers don't realise is that the Guild has its roots in religion.

OK, um I'll start with the basic history. Humans have been aware of the supernatural since forever so we have always had people or groups who specialised in dealing with those aspects of the supernatural which proved troublesome. With the growth of organised religion, these groups became more complex. Most of the main religions at some point had those within who were specialists in the supernatural. The Catholic Church as one of the most powerful and wealthy organisations throughout the centuries had a dedicated specialist unit but they weren't exactly slayers. The intention wasn't always to eradicate the supernatural, sometimes they would protect it, seek its help, slaying was very much a last resort. You with me?" Robin paused to take a bite out of his chocolate digestive. At Scarlett's confused shake of her head, he grinned again. "The Guild's roots are in the Reformation. Terrible social, political and religious upheaval. The Lutheran Church was challenging the supremacy of the Catholic which meant that the supernatural unit was unable to perform its tasks as effectively. Ideological conflict over the proper course of action regarding the supernatural was also emerging. At the same time increased recognition was given to the advantages of pooling resources and knowledge. So it took a few decades but together the main religious bodies decided that they needed to have an organisation free from religious conflict, one which could transcend the current religious and political boundaries, they thought that it would serve humanity better. Over the centuries the resulting Guild became increasingly powerful, it moved away from its religious founders, in some ways it was really progressive, I mean gender, religious identity, the Guild didn't care what you were on paper as long as you were a good slayer."

Scarlett smiled approvingly, "Sounds rather impressive."

Robin set aside his mug of tea which was now lukewarm. "Yeah I mean in terms of equality, the Guild was centuries ahead but there has always been a caveat. Equality as long as you're a human. Any supernatural abilities and you were considered a threat which needed to be neutralised". Robin's mouth twisted bitterly as he scowled. "Slaying became the dominant role of the Guild – they lost the other aspects of the relationship between them and the supernatural."

* * *

Staggering out into the corridor, Jonno barely managed to shut the room behind him before he collapsed on his hands and knees. His stomach churned violently as he attempted to throw up its empty contents. After a few minutes of retching, he fell back against the wall, his hands sticky against the lino flooring. He closed his eyes but the horrific images continued to flash before his eyes. The room was soundproof so he knew he could no longer hear the screaming but it still echoed in his ears.

Professor Teverson was a civilian. Just an ordinary woman who had come to them for help. Now they... no Dave really, had held her prisoner and subjected her to interrogation techniques that could be classified as... torture was such a strong word but he couldn't think of another description. Every day that she refused to supply them with information they stepped up the ante with tactics that were becoming increasingly inhumane. Today, Jonno shivered, Dave had possibly just crossed a line. And Jonno had just stood back and let it happen. He was implicit in all of this, in nearly if not as deep as Dave.

_Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes. _Jonno repeated the words over and over again like a mantra as he curled up to a little ball and began rocking. _Whatever it takes to bring down Vlad Dracula. _

* * *

Scarlett got up to make a fresh pot of tea. "It's interesting but can we link the Catholic Church, the Guild and the source together?" She flicked the switch on the kettle and emptied the remains of the cold tea out of her teapot. "Surely if the Guild and the Church are working together they wouldn't have sent van Helsing to Oxford? They wouldn't have started this new operation to get the source. Unless..." Her voice trailed off as she gave Robin a meaningful look.

"They are trying to divert attention?" Robin finished the sentence for her.

Scarlett poured the hot water into the teapot, "But you don't think that's the case?"

Robin shook his head. "No, I think it's more complicated than that. The Guild has a strained relationship with most of its religious founders mainly owing to the Guild's determination to distance itself from any form of organised religion. There is very limited cooperation between the Church and the Guild and of course the Church denies the existence of any supernatural division within. The Guild has never fully accepted this denial so both sides are suspicious of each other." He accepted a new mug of hot tea. "I don't think that the Guild knew anything about the prophecy or the source until the attack at Arad. If they had known before, they wouldn't have hesitated. They would have thrown everything into finding it; they would have done anything to eradicate vampirekind.

It's more complicated now. Vlad's reign makes it more difficult for them. He's the first vampire ever to try and make peace with the Guild. It makes slayers question things, some of them are torn because they have been trained to believe that vampires can only ever be evil yet here is one trying his best to preserve human life. The Guild is becoming fractured; internal politics and conflict means that any strike against vampirekind is becoming contestable. That's why the Guild is preparing to enter into peace negotiations whilst sending some of its best on an undercover mission to find the source."

* * *

Sometimes it was best to hide in plain sight. What could possibly be suspicious about two men in their forties having a couple of whiskeys in the Lamb and Flag pub? If their conversation appeared a little odd, well that could easily be explained. Perhaps they were talking about a book? Or a new film? Perhaps they were one of the many writing groups that frequented the pub given its illustrious history in literature.

Thomas swirled the golden liquid around in his glass. "Something doesn't fit Father. They have locked down the headquarters. Not even I'm allowed inside that basement and I'm the damn leader of the Oxfordshire division."

Father James took a sip of his whiskey, in his current state of concern he barely felt the alcohol burn against his throat. Perhaps it was time to call in reinforcements.

* * *

"OK, but you think that the Church is involved? Or still involved?" Scarlett corrected herself.

"Absolutely." Robin seemed surprised by the firmness of his answer but he continued. "The early involvement of the Church suggests to me that they knew about the prophecy and the source. In fact I think that they deliberately kept possession of both for as long as possible. I think that they were guarding the source; why else would it be a priest rather than an army that brought the source to Tudor England? So I started digging around in the Church's past trying to find out as much as possible about the supernatural unit. There's not a lot to go, so much of the information has been destroyed but I've got a theory on what I've found so far." He raised his eyebrows questioningly. When Scarlett nodded eagerly, he flicked open his notebook and began reviewing his notes. "I think the source has been guarded by the Church long before the prophecy. They didn't know what it was but clearly knew it was something valuable. Perhaps a religious sect brought it into the Church in the early years, I haven't had enough time to look at that but as soon as they knew about the prophecy, they began to fulfil it. So they kept it in hiding but they moved it from city of knowledge to city of knowledge. I think that there was a secret order within the supernatural unit which did this. Ever heard of the Knights of Templar?"

"Yes," Scarlett answered instantly. "They were a military group endorsed by the Church during the Middle Ages, they played a vital role during the Crusades but were later disbanded. Mainly because the Crusades were no longer politically popular and the Church no longer wanted to spend money on them."

"Yeah. The stuff of myth and legend. There are loads of stories about them but it appears that they had a link with the supernatural unit. A small pocket of supernatural specialists trained alongside the knights before entering into battle with them. Now if you look at the key dates there is a certain amount of overlap. The Knights of Templar were officially endorsed by the Pope in the twelfth century, around the same time as this prophecy emerged. The official decline of the Knights occurred in the fourteenth century just as the Katane clan was gaining considerable power in those areas where the Crusades had failed. Just an interesting coincidence? I don't think so. My guess is that there was a group within the Knights who were trying to retrieve the original prophecy and the Katane clan were fighting back. There isn't much to go on; in fact that's the intriguing part. It's not like there are huge gaps, it's not obvious that information has disappeared, it's been skilfully covered up." Robin passed her some photocopied pages. "But I found a couple of mentions of this particular group. They were mentioned in this ancient tome on the politics of the early Church in Ireland, there are some records on the Knights which state that the band of supernatural specialists were called by this name, one of Phillip II's priests was rumoured to be in this organisation and I've found a mention of them in this book on the Church during the Victorian era." He held up a dog eared book, the words clearly underlined in pencil. "The Order of Light. Get it? Light? That has to mean something. The Bathius Blood papers suggest that light can be used as a weapon against vampirekind. Vlad's visions seem to point to the same thing, the source somehow produces light. It's like a premodern UV bomb."

Scarlett stifled a giggle at this comparison. "The prophecy does refer to a star," she said contemplatively. She twisted strands of her hair around her fingers as she thought over Robin's theory.

Robin took another biscuit as he watched her mull over the information that he had just given her. Now that he had said everything he had to say, he was feeling slightly anxious. He really hoped that he hadn't just made a prat of himself.

After a few minutes of thinking Scarlett spoke. "So basically, one of the most powerful religious organisations in the world has a secretive group dedicated to protecting both the prophecy and the source."

Robin nodded. "I know, it sounds crazy," he began.

"No more crazier than vampires and werewolves actually existing!" Scarlett dunked another biscuit into her tea before licking the melted chocolate off. "Or the existence of an international military organisation dedicated to slaying vampires. Or one of our friends being some sort of super vamp ruler." She laughed ruefully before growing serious again. "Besides something about it..." She wore an uneasy expression, "It just sort of..."

"Feels right?" Robin suggested nervously. He looked relieved when she nodded in agreement. "I think if we can find out more about this Order of Light, we may find out more about the source itself and possibly where they hid it. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan. A more exciting plan than cross referencing building works." Scarlett groaned dramatically at the sight of the half full packet of biscuits. "Ah crap! I've got a dress fitting tomorrow! Robin why did you stop me?"

Robin sniggered. "It would take a braver man than me to get between a woman and her chocolate." With a gleeful laugh, he successfully dodged Scarlett's attempt to thump him.

**Chapter 38 teaser**

'_It's ironic.'_

'_No, it's idiotic.'_


	40. Chapter 38

**_Thanks so much for the positive reviews on the last chapter, I'm glad that the history wasn't too boring! Can't believe it's Saturday already, (Doctor Who –yay!)_**

**_ Hope you enjoy this! Oh and er sorry... *evil smile*  
_**

**_ xo_**

**Chapter 38**

As her fingers moved in a caress over the warm smoothness of the red satin, Scarlett sighed with happiness. This was true love, this was real desire, she could barely restrain her excitement as she took a sneaky glance at the full length mirror. It was a struggle to remain still as the seamstress took the final measurements and began removing the pins. The ball gown was a dramatic deep red against the creamy whiteness of her skin, the finely boned corset turned her figure into an impressive hour glass, she couldn't believe that her waist could be so small and dainty. She swept a loving hand over the tiny sequins that spread out from the sparkling clasp at her hip. It was the most exquisitely beautiful item of clothing that she had ever owned. Ever since she was little, she had wanted a red ball gown like ones the old Hollywood stars wore to parties and dinners.

This gown was worth every minute that she had worked over the summer holidays. She could barely hold back her grin as she met Charlie's approving gaze. "I should feel guilty," she confessed. "All this money on one dress. It's so extravagant, but..." Scarlett stroked the thick satin of her corset, "I don't!" She laughed breathlessly, her cheeks flushed with happiness.

"You shouldn't!" Charlie protested softly. "You worked so hard to get the money together. Come on – you spent the entire summer alternating between waitressing and the college's summer school. You are allowed to spend some of that money on yourself. Especially on something as gorgeous as this."

The seamstress looked up from her position kneeling on the floor. "I'd listen to your friend," she said with a friendly wink.

Scarlett gave her a vibrant smile in return. Winterville's annual ball was only a few weeks away and yet she couldn't wait. Most of the colleges held their balls in the summer term but Winterville traditionally held its ball in Michaelmas term. It was a much anticipated event in the run up to Christmas. This year the ball committee, of which Charlie was a member, had decided upon the theme of the Great Exhibition in 1851. Charlie had already been dropping hints about what the Victorian theme would involve.

And this year, there was Vlad.

Despite the sinister threat of this mysterious Bertrand and the increasing pressure to find the source, the past few weeks were amongst the happiest of Scarlett's life. She just couldn't stop smiling at the prospect of attending a ball with Vlad. The romantic in her was envisaging all sorts of wonderful scenarios, dancing gracefully across the Grand Hall, stealing kisses in the college gardens, his smile when he saw her for the first time in this ball gown... The seamstress tutted good-naturedly as Scarlett hugged herself in anticipation.

* * *

There was a fresh cut on her wrist, Tamara gazed at it in confusion, how had that happened? It was deep and clean, a deliberate and ugly slash into her previously unblemished skin. She raised her hand slowly to her face, her head felt fuzzy; details of a silver blade and the coldness of his mouth against her skin were slipping away no matter how desperately she tried to cling to them. Had he really touched her? Had he truly pressed that exquisitely sensual mouth against her flesh?

Tamara raised her eyes to watch him straightening his cloak. He was so beautiful. No wonder she tried so hard to remember. Her usually impeccable memory repeatedly let her down when it came to him, she had an uneasy sense that nothing ever really happened between them in those blurred moments. Nothing sexual at any rate. She couldn't help but wonder why. Sometimes when she tried to touch him, he would recoil from her as if he found her repulsive. The way his mouth tightened and the way his entire body stiffened indicated his disgust at her advances. Yet sometimes when he looked at her, she could see this strange wild desire in his eyes, almost like a fierce hunger. It was confusing, upsetting; she could feel her confidence slipping away with those precious fragments of memory. Why wasn't he like other men?

"This lecture tonight at the History Faculty, you are not to attend." His voice was softly spoken as ever but there was no mistaking the tone of command.

Tamara blinked slowly at his words. "But you said ..." she began plaintively.

"You have played your part well but tonight will be dangerous. People are going to get hurt." His tone was matter of fact. He was dressed in all leather this evening yet his clothing still didn't quite fit with this century. The blackness of the material enhanced the golden hue of his flawless skin.

Tamara felt her breath catch in her throat as the overwhelming desire to have him, to possess him, to make him hers swept over her. "Because you care?" she whispered, almost not caring about the note of pleading in her voice.

He chuckled quietly, "No, because you're useful," he replied with a malicious smile.

* * *

Vlad moved his hand down the line of Scarlett's body, fingers skimming over her ribcage, across the dip of her waist before settling on her hip, he pulled her tighter against his body, his lips nuzzling at her earlobe as he spoke. "You know you are going to have to give it to me." He slid his hand beneath her to support the small of her back as she arched up against him. "Sooner or later. It's only a matter of time."

Scarlett laughed softly, her breath deliciously warm against his skin, "Such arrogance," she teased, slipping her fingers underneath his shirt to trace patterns against the smooth skin of his back.

Vlad bit back a moan of pleasure at her action; it felt like he was burning everywhere she touched his bare skin. He nipped her ear playfully before returning to her lips, his mouth hovering teasingly over hers. "I'm only asking for what's rightfully mine." He claimed her mouth in a hard passionate kiss, his tongue battling with hers as his fingers slipped under the oversize hoodie that she was wearing.

Scarlett instantly started giggling and tried to grab his hands. "I told you, I'm keeping it."

Vlad pouted in a mock sulk. "But it's my hoodie. I'll be cold," he said forlornly. He brushed his lips against hers, "I guess my only option is to stay in tonight. Here. Where you can keep me warm." A smirk spread across his lips.

Scarlett ran her fingers through his silky hair, smiling with happiness as he tenderly pressed a kiss against her exposed wrist. "We have to go to this lecture. Professor Teverson hasn't been seen for ages. She's not even taking tutorials anymore. It might be your only chance of getting access to her again."

"Why do you have to be the voice of reason?" Vlad buried his face in the soft warmth of her neck. "I have to go back to Transylvania tomorrow and I'd rather spend tonight here, just you and me."

"Me too." The sadness in her voice made him raise his head. She smiled at his startled look of surprise. "I'll miss you," she admitted softly.

If Vlad's heart had still been beating, it would have skipped a couple. He half-smiled, reluctant to show her just how much her words meant to him. "Then keep the damn hoodie. Just until I'm back."

* * *

"Robin, I'm not wearing a cape to a lecture!" Vlad shoved the bundle of material back at his best friend. "Especially one on vampires."

Robin's grin only widened. "That's what's so awesome about this." He shoved the cape at Vlad again. "It's ironic."

"No, it's idiotic." Vlad rolled his eyes. Just because Robin wore his cape nearly everywhere these days didn't mean that he was going to follow suit.

"Vlad, it's Oxford. You could dress up in a clown's outfit and jump around the city on a pogo stick and no-one would even bat an eyelid." Just to emphasise Robin's point, a troupe of students in various superhero costumes came around the corner. Over the noisy chatter and drunken laughter, Robin gave Vlad a pointedly smug smile.

"Fine!" With bad grace, Vlad wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and began fastening the clasp.

"Well, now that bat brain and garlic breath have finished their fascinating conversation, can we get a move on?" Ingrid sneered, deliberately knocking Robin's shoulder as she pushed through them.

Robin rubbed his shoulder in irritation. "Yes, oh magnificent Princess of Darkness. I live only to serve you," he called after her sarcastically.

Ingrid turned to glower at him, her eyes ruby red against the whiteness of her skin. "Flap off Branagh."

* * *

"Of course, the sexual symbolism of the vampire in postmodern social media is somewhat less ambiguous than its predecessors. Freud's initial analysis of the vampire as a particular form of sexual deviancy - oral sadism - has been replaced by the somewhat romanticised –"

Ingrid gritted her fangs. If the balding man in the tightly fitted tweed suit mentioned the word 'somewhat' one more time she would personally ensure that he learnt the true meaning of a vampire bite. The only thing which was making this lecture remotely bearable was observing the reactions of those surrounding her. Beside her, Ryan sat silently with a look of stoic suffering on his face. On her other side, Charlie sat with her arms folded, her face frozen in an expression of polite interest. Her eyes seemed to be focused on the elaborate golden clock above the lecture stage. Robin was hunched over a notepad scribbling away; pausing only to impatiently brush a dark lock of hair out of his eyes, his fingers, Ingrid noticed, were stained again with fragments of oil paint. She wondered what he had been working on that required the unusual substance. She found it strangely difficult to tear her gaze away from the way his unruly hair curled over the collar of his jacket. Forcing her gaze onto Scarlett, Ingrid's lips curled into a smirk as she noted the pinkness staining the blonde girl's cheeks. Her smirk deepened when she saw how her brother shifted restlessly in his seat, an occasional frown of deep annoyance marring his forehead. At least she wasn't the only Dracula bored stiff.

She didn't bother to stifle her yawn as the rest of the lecture hall clapped politely. As the Head of the History Faculty rose from his chair on the stage and moved forward to take the microphone, the audience's attention was captured elsewhere. Squeaking sounds overhead caused many in attendance to lift their heads to the vaulted ceiling. Swarms of bats were swooping into the hall. With dramatic puffs of smoke, they began transforming into caped figures, each grey cloak bearing the symbol of the Blood Brotherhood. Ingrid paused mid-yawn – things had just gotten very interesting indeed.

* * *

There was rapturous applause from the audience surrounding them. Clearly they thought it was an impressive stunt to liven up the series of lectures. Scarlett glanced anxiously at the vampire by her side. The tension in Vlad's jaw told her everything that she was afraid of. Her fingers covered his, the warmth was seemingly a shock to him as he jumped slightly, giving her a brief forced smile which did little to reassure her.

There was a collective gasp as each vampire grabbed the nearest human to them, twisting their heads to the side, exposing their victims' necks; sharp fangs gleamed at their mouths. Unease rippled through the audience at the screams and whimpers from the various victims. This all seemed too realistic.

The vampire holding Professor Lawson, the Faculty Head, hissed venomously at the audience, his eyes an impossible shade of red. "Vladimir Dracula, show yourself Chosen One. Or every breather in this room will die screaming." The vampire trailed his large almost purplish tongue down the throat of the clearly terrified Professor Lawson. "Starting with this one."

Scarlett clutched at Vlad's hand which was slipping out of her grasp. "Vlad, no!" she whispered in distress.

Robin pulled out a stake from beneath his cape. He gave Vlad an imploring look, his pupils dilated with fear, "Just make a run for it," he muttered in an under tone.

Vlad glanced around the room, he made a quick assessment of the number of vampires, the various exits, the shivers of fear now spreading throughout the waiting audience, he noted the faces wearing grey capes and then bent his head to whisper to his companions. "I have no choice. I can't let innocent breathers die on my behalf," his voice was filled with quiet urgency. "All of you get out of here as soon as you can."

"Stop being such a noble zombie brain," Ingrid hissed at him, her lovely face paling even further with fear. "You're more important than these blood-bags."

"Thanks," Charlie muttered sarcastically, earning herself a pinch from Ingrid.

Vlad almost smiled at his sister's predictable wrath. He looked past Ingrid to her devoted half fang. "Ryan, do whatever is necessary." There was a tone of authority in Vlad's voice that Scarlett had never heard before. Ingrid's jaw clenched tighter with silent fury at Vlad's words. Wrenching his hand away from Scarlett's tight grasp, Vlad stood up calmly. He stepped out into the central aisle with languid grace, his cloak falling elegantly around his body. "I believe you are looking for me." Although his words were quietly spoken, there was a strange depth to his voice – an inhuman grittiness.

A half-hearted flutter of applause rose and fell amongst some sections of the audience. This little piece of drama hadn't been listed on the schedule for tonight but it was certainly more diverting than the last speaker.

The lead vampire gave Vlad a fangy smile. "Your Highness," he spat out the words with contempt.

Vlad met his gaze steadily without displaying so much as a flicker of fear. "Release the breathers immediately and I will come to you without a fight." His eyes never left those of the lead vampire; it was almost as if he considered the other vampires to be beneath his attention. His composure was seriously unnerving; there wasn't the slightest tremor in his voice or hands. If anything, he gave the impression of being mildly bored.

It clearly unnerved the lead vampire as well. He barked out orders in a language Scarlett was unfamiliar with but she guessed from Ingrid's horrified gasp and the release of the potential victims that Vlad's offer had been accepted. Grey cloaked men surrounded Vlad as a pair of fang cuffs were snapped onto his wrists.

Scarlett raised a trembling hand to her mouth as Vlad was marched onto the stage and forced onto his knees before the lead vampire. Five grey cloaked vampires, including their leader, surrounded Vlad in a circle and unsheathed their swords. The long blades glinted a tell tale shade of shimmering blue – argentilium. As, each sword was raised into the air to hover over Vlad's bowed head, Scarlett realised with horrific clarity that they were going to behead him.

**Chapter 39**

"_Bats, bats, bats"..._


	41. Chapter 39

_**Apologies for posting so late! I'm afraid it's been a crazy day with real life obligations getting in the way of writing and posting DiF : ( I hope that this chapter was worth the wait! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! Just a heads up that I might not be able to post on Saturday but I will certainly try my best. Really, really sorry in advance : (  
**_

_**I should warn you guys that this chapter and the next few upcoming chapters have violence, are centred on Bertrand and reveal some of the darker aspects of Vlad's personality... so consider yourselves warned!**_

_**I hope you will still enjoy!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 39**

Ruthvern allowed himself a small moment of gloating as he held the argentilium sword over Vladimir Dracula's neck. It had taken six long years of deprivation and suffering to get to this point, he had been officially disowned by his clan, he had been stripped of all his assets, he had dwelt amongst filth and half-fangs, dreaming of this moment where he would restore the vampire race to purity. The Chosen One could not be allowed to take vampirekind down his path, they were predators, creatures of the night, breathers were their food, nothing more than cattle. To form a peaceful co-existence between the two was an abomination – it could not be allowed.

Staring down at the Chosen One on his knees, Ruthvern felt a sadistic thrill race through his cold dead veins. What had they all been so scared of? Young Dracula was no more than a child, barely even two decades old and he had given in so easily to spare the lives of a handful of disgusting breathers. He was a pathetic weakling; vampires had no need for a leader like him. A stake hadn't worked the last time but severing the head from his body would be an invaluable start. Ruthvern raised his foot off the ground to kick the young vampire kneeling before him when suddenly Vladimir Dracula lifted his head and smiled at him. A small knowing smirk. Ruthvern found himself stepping back at the sight.

A blue streak of metal sliced through the air, the subsequent gasps from his Blood Brothers caught his attention for a brief but deadly second. With a snap, Vladimir Dracula released himself from the fang cuffs, rose to his feet in one graceful fluid movement and Ruthvern found himself opening his mouth in a silent scream as the stake plunged into his heart.

* * *

All hell broke loose in the lecture theatre as Dmitri threw off his disguise and beheaded three vampires in one stroke of his sword. Some of the vampires lunged at the audience seeking new victims to bargain with or slaughter, others rushed to the stage to fight against Dmitri and Vlad who had now broken free. Swarms of bats began flying into the lecture theatre, some of them terrifying the audience as they swept downwards in attack mode, others transforming into yet more vampires to scattered rounds of applause. It seemed as if the previous swarms had only been the first wave of attack. Hysteria was beginning to sweep over some members of the audience although most of them still seemed to think it was all an elaborate publicity stunt; they remained seated viewing the unfolding events with fascination. The few who were being chased by vampires had revised their opinion of the 'entertainment'; chairs were flung aside, papers discarded and ruffled audience members pushed out of the way as some people made a frantic run for the exits.

Robin crushed his lips against Charlie's for a brief second. "Get out safely." He leapt over the chairs with easy grace to stake the nearest enemy vampire. With seconds, he was fighting off several more.

"Robin!" Ingrid jumped to his side, throwing a fireball at a vampire who had gotten dangerously close to Robin's neck. He tossed her a stake which she caught effortlessly and proceeded to use on the enemy vampires closest to her. Ryan slid a desperate arm around Ingrid's waist with the intention of forcibly flying her out of danger. Ingrid snarled at him in warning, her eyes red and fangs dropping down. "I'm not some pathetic damsel in distress. If you want to help, start fighting!"

Overhearing Ingrid's words finally seemed to thaw Scarlett from her frozen state of shock. She turned to Charlie, "We need to get everyone out..." the rest of the sentence died as she gazed at her best friend in bewilderment.

"Bats, bats, bats," Charlie was repeating the word under her breath as she rummaged around in her oversize bag. "Bats!" She held up a personal safety alarm – standard police freebie from the Freshers Fair. With a decisive tug, she pulled out the safety string causing the alarm to emit a high pitched whine before tossing it at the crowd of vampires attacking Robin, Ingrid and Ryan.

The alarm had an instant effect on the attacking vampires, the brief interlude between shape shifting meant that they still had the heightened hearing of bats and the noise must have been profoundly painful as many of them dropped to the floor writhing and twisting.

Scarlett grabbed her personal safety alarm from her coat pocket and copied Charlie's actions. The two girls looked at each other with the same idea forming in their mind. The fire alarm.

"I'll get it, you start getting people out." Scarlett began darting through the chairs, dust explosions and streams of panicking people. It flippantly crossed her mind that perhaps she should be grateful to her P.E. teacher Mrs Boyle for turning a blind eye to the violent under hand tactics of the girls' hockey team. Stamping on feet and using her elbows to shove anyone out of her way, Scarlett struggled through the crowds. Without thinking, she slammed her hand against the glass smashing it and activating the alarm. A few shards pierced her skin causing bright red drops to spill over her fingers and down onto the floor. The shrill shrieking of the alarm and the onslaught of water from the sprinklers added to the sudden pandemonium in the lecture hall. Tugging the sleeve of her cardigan down over her hand, Scarlett hoped that would be enough to prevent the surrounding vampires from picking up the scent.

* * *

The eight piles of dust before him stirred no emotion other than pride in Bertrand du Fortunesa. It had been shockingly easy to overcome his fellow Blood Brothers, to fight each one off, to drive a stake into one's heart even as another lunged at him. He sneered at the memory even as he discarded his shoddy grey cloak and replaced it with his usual finery – a sleek black leather cape with the golden insignia of the Du Fortunesa family. Methodically he folded the old cloak up before setting it down on the ground. He carefully laid his bat shaped badge on top. Whatever happened tonight, whether or not he regained his glory with the Chosen One, his ties with the Blood Brotherhood were well and truly cut.

* * *

Charlie was grateful for the overhead sprinklers pouring water down into the lecture hall, if the departing lecture goers saw the occasional gleam of a white pearly figure amongst the water and mist they would think little of it. Standing still in the centre of the hall, Charlie focused her energy on maintaining her psychic link with those spirits who had answered her call for help. The spirits flanked the moving masses of people acting as barriers between them and the increasing number of vampires who had apparently recovered from the blaring alarms. The audience seemed oddly calm and compliant as they departed with the minimum amount of fuss. A possible explanation was the strange purplish light flowing from the stage. Perhaps Vlad was exercising some form of mind control over them.

Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest as if she had just finished a high speed run, she felt sure every vampire in that room could hear just how scared she was, not just for herself of course but for her friends. There was no time to turn her head, to search for Robin's shape amongst those left fighting, all she could do was maintain the psychic link until all the innocent bystanders were out of the hall and pray that he was safe.

* * *

Only the gleam of turquoise identified Charlie's location in the chaos of the lecture hall. The falling water was creating all sorts of new problems; it hissed into steam as vampires chucked fireballs at each other, it seemed to hold the sparkling dust of slain vampires in the air for a few seconds longer. Rushing across the slippery floor, trying to dart around the fighting vampires and keep her injured hand covered Scarlett was momentarily distracted by the changing hue of the water to a shimmering shade of lightest purple. The inevitable happened as she slipped and slid across the wet floor landing with a thud just a few feet away from her best friend.

As the last of the lecture goers stepped out into the cold crispness of the autumn night, the large oak doors slammed shut. Closing her eyes, Charlie's sense of balance seemed to be wavering; she began stumbling backwards, her knees giving way beneath her. Scarlett gave herself a hefty push in Charlie's direction, sliding across the watery floor and managing to block Charlie's fall before her dark head banged against the unforgiving hardness of the floor.

Wisps of spirits began fading away into the onslaught of the water as Charlie's psychic link was severed. Acutely aware of their vulnerability in the midst of a vicious vampire fight, Scarlett hauled Charlie into her arms and grabbed the broken leg of chair as a weapon. That chair had been a beautifully carved Edwardian replica! Shaking the thought out of her head, Scarlett cast her eyes around the bedlam of the lecture hall. It was difficult to see through the water, dust and fire but she could detect the swish of a black cloak in the corner where Robin was fighting off a bulky red haired vampire. Fire seemed to be Ingrid's preferred weapon of choice as she severely injured three vampires in one go with a fireball before finishing them off with a sharp stake. Ryan hovered protectively around her tackling any vampire who came close.

Lightning crackled through the hall, the white brilliance blinding Scarlett for a moment, when her eyes flickered open, a snarling vampire, his face half charred was crawling determinedly across the floor towards them. Heart thudding frantically, Scarlett raised the chair leg. She felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of killing this man, her hand holding the stake shook violently.

Suddenly her view was obscured by the sweep of a black cape as another person stepped in between them and the approaching enemy. She heard a squelching noise and then the person stepped back revealing a pile of damp dust where the vampire had been. Glancing up, Scarlett expected to see Vlad or Robin, after all they had been the only ones wearing black capes, the words 'thank you' froze on her lips. The male vampire who gazed down upon them, a look of scathing contempt clearly written over his handsome face, was unfamiliar. She watched as his piercing blue eyes flickered to the blood which had seeped through the sleeve of her cardigan. His eyes flashed black for the briefest of seconds, before his gaze returned to her face. He gave her a curious look, Scarlett felt like she was being evaluated almost like an object of intrigue rather than a meal. Unsmilingly, he stepped back. With an abrupt decisive lunge, he staked a vampire who had been sneaking up on him from the side. His brilliantly blue eyes never left Scarlett's. It only added to her unsettlement.

Charlie stirred in Scarlett's arms, a ghostly light began to encircle the two girls, the psychic link between Charlie and the spiritual world was restored as she regained consciousness. Seemingly satisfied with this, their tall protector gave Scarlett a curt nod before launching himself into the battle.

* * *

Robin had never thought that he would be in this kind of situation again. The films, the books, even the news indicated that killing was all too easy. Well it wasn't. He hated it with all his heart. He had only ever picked up a stake to protect his family. When his family left Stokely, Robin had carefully wrapped up his slaying weapons ensuring that they were well hidden from his family. He hadn't disposed of them though. He knew better than that. Vampires were real and if he had to protect his loved ones again, he needed to be ready.

Before he could reach him, the green haired vampire punched his hand through the plaster work of the wall and ripped out the wiring. The blaring of the alarm suddenly ceased and the lights overhead flickered threateningly. Robin threw his stake with deadly precision at the vampire's chest. The sharp wooden tip lodged in the vampire's heart before he could disconnect the electricity supply and plunge the hall into darkness. Even as Robin lunged forward to reclaim his weapon, a grey clothed arm clamped around his neck and a hiss sounded warningly in his ear. Robin stilled suddenly, his eyes darting around the immediate area checking the location of his vampire friends before slipping the UV gun out of his pocket. He felt sharp fangs press against his neck...

An unknown vampire, dressed in black leather, came running towards him, a bolt of lightning flying from his hand in their direction. Robin heard a faint gasp of surprise escape the mouth of his captor just before he was reduced to dust. The new vampire lifted Robin's stake from the ground, a tiny frown creasing his brow, before tossing it back to him. Catching it easily, Robin gave the vampire a grateful nod. If there was one thing that he learnt from the Guild, it was that questions could wait until the fight was over.

* * *

Lightning crackled around Vlad as he dusted Blood Brother after Blood Brother. He was furious at this evening's turn of events. What a complete waste of his time! Professor Teverson hadn't even bothered to turn up, the lectures had been beyond a joke, particularly that last one, and now he had to stake his way through swarms of deluded vampires who thought they actually had a chance of slaying him. Not to mention the ringing in his ears from that blasted fire alarm. All he had wanted to do this evening was curl up with Scarlett. A nice bottle of wine, some chocolate brownies and hopefully the cuddling and kissing would turn into something more. But oh no, he was here instead. Blood and garlic! Vlad slammed the stake viciously into the nearest vampire's heart. He was fed up with the Blood Brotherhood and their increasingly reckless attempts to assassinate him.

Leaping effortlessly over one attacker's head, he blasted another bunch of approaching vampires with lightning. If only Dmitri and Ingrid would damn well listen to him! If they got out of the lecture hall, then Vlad would be able to unleash his full powers and dust every remaining vampire in this cursed place with one explosion of lightning. In fairness, the blood oath meant that Dmitri had no real choice in whether he stayed or not, he had sworn to protect Vlad. Ingrid, on the other hand, well Vlad could think of no reason why she would stay to fight other than to thoroughly piss him off. She had certainly been successful in that respect.

With a menacing hiss, he gestured for Dmitri to duck before he dusted the few remaining vampires with a bolt of lightning that sizzled through the ash filled air. The sound of feet scuffling and body blows muffled by clothing indicated that there was one last vampire being fought. Wrapping his cloak around his hands, Vlad strode towards the small group gathered in the centre of the hall. He wasn't impressed by the number of people he found there; he had told them all to get out. Scarlett was supporting a tired-looking Charlie, the two girls were surrounded by a white ghostly light. Ingrid was shaking dust off her clothing, a dark frown upon her features; she had probably ruined her new shoes. As ever Ryan stood behind her, his head bowed respectfully at Vlad's approach. That left only Robin. Idiot. A hand clapped him on the back, Vlad snarled fiercely into the startled face of his best mate before stepping back hurriedly. The tantalising scent of slayer's blood floated around Robin.

Robin gave Vlad a reproachful look. "Remind me never to congratulate you again."

Vlad barely heard him. "Then who?" He tilted his head meaningfully towards the stage. Robin followed his gaze before glancing back around at their group. His mouth formed a silent "Oh".

Casting his eyes over the shadowy figures moving on the stage, Vlad turned sharply to snatch Dmitri's stake. He was determined that he would finish this tonight. The Blood Brotherhood had sought a massacre and he was all too happy to oblige them. He would wipe out every last son of a bat in that damned organisation. He had only taken a few steps towards the stage when the soft but now all too familiar sound of wet dust splattering upon the floor indicated that one of the mysterious figures had been victorious. An eerie quietness fell upon the hall. Not quite silence, Vlad could hear the trickling of water down the walls, Robin's uneven breathing by his side, the creak of Dmitri's leather coat as he came to stand behind him. Through the clouds of dust which were slowly falling onto the ground and the mist from the mixture of water and lightning, a tall caped figure was emerging. Vlad inhaled the air deeply, his eyes flashing black as he recognised the scent.

Stepping out of the floating whiteness, Bertrand du Fortunesa came face to face with his former protégée for the first time since that fateful night in Paris. Holding Vlad's gaze with his own, Bertrand descended with dignified grace onto one knee in a stance of apologetic loyalty. He spoke softly, quietly, "Vlad - Your Highness."

**Chapter 40**

'_...the heart is such a small and insignificant organ, so easy to miss...'_


	42. Chapter 40

_**Thank you as always for your amazing reviews! : ) So this is **_**IT**_**, the "**_**reveal**_**" – I hope it won't be a disappointment! And seriously guys, violence, swearing and Vlad being not a very nice person ...you're been warned!**_

_**xo **_

**Chapter 40**

It had been so very long since Bertrand had stood in the presence of the Chosen One. His eyes hungrily devoured every exquisite detail of the young Grand High Vampire. The increasing breadth of his shoulders, the flawless porcelain of his pale skin and ah the harsh blackness of his eyes ... so much had changed in a year.

Bertrand wanted to speak; he wanted to tell Vlad everything that he had done for him in the past year. How he had infiltrated and destroyed the Blood Brotherhood. All for Vlad. The fools had thought that they could use him. Indeed, he had been considered one of their greatest assets - the former tutor and advisor to the Grand High Vampire. However, Bertrand had been plotting against them all along. He had been carefully dismantling the organisation from the inside, learning their connections, their means of communication, their greatest allies and then ruthlessly using that information against them. Tonight's events had been carefully masterminded, this evening's attack planned just right so that all the most rabid and fanatical members were dusted. The Blood Brotherhood would no longer pose a threat to the Draculas. He had done it all to protect Vlad. A year of self-imposed penance all so that the Chosen One would once again consider him worthy of being in his service.

Bertrand said none of those things. They were in company – breathers and slayers no less and he would divulge his secrets and intentions to no-one other than the Chosen One. Instead, Bertrand gazed desperately into Vlad's eyes, wishing that the young vampire would sense the truth; he didn't dare drop his guard and use telepathy to communicate. He had experienced the pain that Vlad could inflict upon a vampire's mind; as thrilling as it was to know how vicious Vlad could be when he was provoked, Bertrand did not care to have his weakness exposed to a watching crowd.

Vlad was breathing heavily, an indication that he was trying to control his temper, he had assumed a protective stance, placing himself between Bertrand and his ... well for lack of a better word, his pets. His eyes were no longer dark, they had returned to his usual blue, Bertrand could tell from the slight frown creasing his forehead that he was analysing the situation. He waited with anxious impatience for Vlad to speak, to say something, anything to reveal the thoughts that lay behind the blank mask that his protégé had mastered so beautifully. Finally, after what seemed like years, Vlad lifted his head, all red glittering eyes and sharp fangs. As he roared with wrath thunder and lightning crashed through the hall and Bertrand knew at that exact moment he was very far from being forgiven.

* * *

Fury overwhelmed Vlad and without really thinking about it, he threw a fireball at Bertrand. The mass of red and oranges flames exploded around his former tutor, but Bertrand's reflexes were finely honed. The older vampire shielded himself with his cape before tossing off the last of the flames as if he was merely shaking off drops of rain water. He flung out his hand, a bolt of lightning speeding towards Vlad. With a snarl, Vlad lashed back, his own lightning bolt not only meeting Bertrand's but redirecting its path back towards his former tutor. There was a tremendous bang as the force of two lightning bolts slammed into Bertrand's chest, tossing the older vampire into the air so that he landed several metres away on the stage.

Vlad caught his sister's arm as she moved forward, eyes blood red with the lust for revenge. "No," he snapped as Ingrid tried to break free of his powerful grip. "Whatever happens, just stay back." Vlad cast a foreboding look over his shoulder. "That applies to all of you." His voice rang with the mistakable tone of authority. Turning back to his sister, Vlad's voice softened, his words almost a plea, "Let me do this for you."

Startled by the intensity of her brother's voice, Ingrid glanced up at him, an unnecessary breath catching in her throat at the emotion on his face. With difficulty, she choked back her pride, nodding almost imperceptibly .

Vlad released her arm immediately, the cool blank mask on his face showing no sign of how deeply he had been hurt by the surprise and suspicion in Ingrid's eyes. Didn't his sister know he would do anything to protect her?

* * *

Charlie gripped her best friend's arm even tighter. "What's going on?" she whispered in a vexed tone. Her head was pounding and her mouth dry, maintaining a psychic link with so many spirits for such a prolonged period had drained her.

Scarlett shook her head before answering softly, "I don't know." Apprehension was building up inside her, something deep inside was screaming a warning at her. That man, he had saved her in the fight and yet Vlad and Ingrid's reaction to him...

Still rubbing her arm where Vlad had held her, Ingrid stepped back to join them. "That's Bertrand," Anger gave her a voice a harsh edge, "And Vlad had better stake him properly this time."

* * *

Zooming to the stage where Bertrand had landed, Vlad approached his former tutor with caution. Leaning over Bertrand's apparently unconscious form, Vlad wasn't that surprised to find the tip of an argentilium sword suddenly pressing against his throat, as the older vampire rose swiftly into a crouching position.

"Excellent lightning bolt." Bertrand spoke calmly in his usual lightly accented tones, his manner suggesting that this skirmish was no more than yet another one of their many training exercises. "However letting your enemy equip himself with a weapon." Bertrand gave him a mildly reproving look even as he moved forward causing Vlad to stumble backwards lest the argentilium blade pierced his skin.

Vlad smiled grimly before he transformed into smoke, an action which rendered Bertrand's sword ineffective. Even an argentilium blade couldn't harm floating particles.

Without hesitation, Bertrand swung the sword around abruptly, the blade crashing into another as Vlad materialised behind him wielding a sword of his own. "You haven't been practising," Bertrand shook his head in disapproval. "Your reactions should be faster."

His comments only served to infuriate his former student even more. Fangs lowered, Vlad scowled at him. "I'll show you faster." Bertrand's eyes half closed in pleasure at finally hearing the Chosen One's voice again but he had little time to savour the moment.

Their swords clanged violently against each other as Vlad thrust forward and Bertrand effectively blocked him with his blade, Vlad made another attempt, this time at Bertrand's throat, sparks glinted as the two blades slid against one another. "You lack precision," Bertrand said conversationally before forcing Vlad's blade downwards. He stepped back so that they could resume circling each other.

Vlad's temper flared, he moved forward unnaturally fast, his blade slicing through Bertrand's leather jacket before the older vampire was able to bring his sword up to block him once again. They were almost face to face now, Bertrand leant forward just enough to whisper into Vlad's ear, he could feel the coolness radiating from Vlad's skin mere millimetres from his mouth. "Of course, even if I were to drive this sword through your heart, I doubt it would have any effect." He lingered for a few moments longer than necessary letting the Chosen One consider the implications of what he had just said.

Vlad's body tensed by the tiniest fraction, perhaps no other vampire would have noticed it but Bertrand's entire unlife was based around Vladimir Dracula and he had trained himself to be observant of every single look, movement or flicker of behaviour in the Dracula boy. That moment of realisation, was all Bertrand needed to twist his sword around, and grab hold of Vlad's weapon, tugging it from the Chosen One's hand before he had time to react. Vlad's startled look, whether at Bertrand's words or his sudden disarmament, was most gratifying. Bertrand took a couple of steps backwards, a sword in each hand, decisively he tossed them aside. "Vlad, Your Highness, I'm here to protect you. To apologise." If Bertrand had any hope that these words would break through Vlad's anger, it rapidly dissipated as Vlad withdrew a stake from his cloak and surged forward.

* * *

The hand to hand combat between Vlad and Bertrand was strangely captivating, both vampires moved with such grace that it was like they were performing some form of a war dance, each trying to land blows on an opponent who was never here, each trying to predict the next move of the other, their footwork almost identical, their sparring equally matched. Scarlett shook herself out of a near trance. It may have looked beautiful but there was no mistaking the violence behind each swing Vlad took at Bertrand or the force with which Bertrand pushed back. But the new vampire – this Bertrand - hadn't wanted to fight Vlad, he had thrown down the swords, apart from a white flag could there be a gesture more meaningful of surrender? She gasped as Vlad performed a particularly nasty move bringing both vampires down onto the ground. Just moments ago, Vlad had a stake in his hand, it would only take the slightest slip of a hand and he would be dust!

She turned to the others who seemed just as transfixed as she had been "We have to do something!" Fear made her voice shrill but at least it had the effect of snapping everyone out of their collective daze.

Ingrid was the first to respond by shooting her a nasty look. "Stay out of things that don't concern you breather."

Scarlett was slightly taken back at the hostility in Ingrid's voice. "But he's your brother!" she protested, "What if he's hurt? Or slain?"

Ingrid folded her arms across her chest, a smug smile flitting across her lips. "If he stakes Bertrand first, I'd call that a win, win situation."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed, "You evil b -"

Robin stepped between them. "Ladies..."

"Don't you dare!" Ingrid's hand slammed against Dmitri's chest in an attempt to prevent him from entering the array. "That goes for all of you. Anyone interferes and the last thing they will feel is my fangs sinking into their neck. Breather or half fang." She hissed in warning deliberately revealing the sharp points of her fangs.

Dmitri still attempted to push forward. "I am under oath to protect the Chosen One."

Ingrid's hand forced him back. "Does Vlad look like he needs help?" she asked sarcastically, she gestured with her free hand at the stage where Vlad had pinned Bertrand beneath him and seemed to be in the process of throttling him.

Scarlett's eyes followed the wave of Ingrid's arm, within the time it took her to inhale sharply, Vlad's fingers were twisted around nothing more than air as Bertrand transformed into a bat and began flapping a hasty retreat upwards. Vlad leapt into the air, shape shifting into a wolf as he did, his fangs snatching viciously at the wings of the bat. Another flurry of movement and suddenly there were two wolves snarling and fighting, crashing into the glass cabinets, landing with thuds upon the floor as they rolled over the stage, white flashes of fang as they tried to tear each other's throat out.

Scarlett found herself trying to move forward but being held back by some immovable force. In her panicked state of mind, it took a few seconds to realise that the bands around her waist were Dmitri's solid strong arms. "Let me go!" Scarlett tugged at his large hands. She wanted to hit and kick him, scream at him, fight her way free but she knew that was unfair on Dmitri. The vampire wasn't intentionally trying to hurt her; he was just doing his duty. The wolves were moving so fast that they were a blur of fangs and fur. An idea struck her. "Robin, Charlie," she called to her friends "Get the hosepipe!"

Tearing his eyes away from the fight, Robin gave her an incredulous look. The last thing the lecture hall needed was anymore water. Then as Charlie grabbed his sleeve, realisation dawned on Robin. Of course, wolves were nothing more than oversized dogs with attitude! He grabbed the hosepipe, dragging the heavy rubber tubing from the wall and across the floor. Charlie wrenched the tap around and released the water; Robin tried his best to direct the sudden gush of water at the two wolves.

* * *

The onslaught of freezing cold water forced them apart, the animal in each of them howling in distress forcing them to shape shift back into their usual form. Drenched, water dripping off their faces, panting from exertion, Vlad and Bertrand both leapt to their feet, bodies coiled ready for an attack. A stake lay on the few metres of wet, dust filled floor between them. Bertrand observed how Vlad's eyes flickered to the potential weapon. "We can keep this up for as long as it is necessary but know this Vladimir Dracula," Bertrand couldn't keep the pride out of his voice even as he ground out the words, "I taught you everything. I know your every flaw, your every weakness, your every move."

Vlad laughed, a low evil cackle that seemed out of place coming from his sensuous mouth. "Yes, you did teach me practically everything," he conceded, bringing those brilliant sapphire blue eyes up from the floor to meet Bertrand's gaze. "Including this."

Bertrand's mouth opened in a silent scream as his body was lifted off the ground. White hot pain seared through his mind, it felt like a thousand fiery pokers had been inserted into the core of his brain, and every thought was wiped out in the ensuring agony. He was aware of nothing else, not of how his back arched and twisted in torment nor of how he crumpled to the floor as the pain receded just as rapidly as it had entered.

* * *

Ingrid was determined to make good on her threat as she sprang at Robin. Dmitri dropped Scarlett unceremoniously on the floor as he zoomed forward to block Ingrid's attack. "I warned you," Ingrid hissed around Dmitri's considerable bulk.

"So did I." The coldness in Vlad's voice brought everyone's attention back to the two vampires in the centre of the room. Vlad was staring with haughty displeasure at the three implicated in the scuffle, Robin wearing a guilty look as he hastily dropped the fire hose, Ingrid retracting her fangs with a look of wide eyed surprise, Dmitri slowly releasing his tight grasp on Ingrid's shoulders.

"Are you ok?" Scarlett moved forward, her eyes full of concern as she scanned his body for any signs of serious injury. Apart from a few cuts and grazes which were already healing before her eyes, he seemed perfectly fine but there was no telling what injuries lay beneath his cape.

Vlad answered curtly, "Yes." He strode towards the stage, retrieving a stake from a pile of grey sludge.

"Do try to do it properly this time," Ingrid sneered. "I know the heart is such a small and insignificant organ, so easy to miss..."

Vlad scowled at her but instead of answering immediately, he grabbed Bertrand by the collar of his cape and with a strength which belied his slim frame, he forced the injured vampire onto his feet. With a sharp decisive rip, Vlad tore Bertrand's leather jacket exposing his scarred torso for all to see. "Does this," Vlad gestured angrily at the vivid purple and grey markings, "look like I missed?"

Ingrid's composure wavered for a second, horror flitting across her face at the sight of the ugly scarring on her former lover's chest but she recovered rapidly. "He's not dust; I'd say that was a failure."

Vlad let go of Bertrand roughly, causing the older vampire to fall upon his knees. "That can be rectified." With a dramatic swish of his cape, he turned around to face Bertrand, raising the stake in the air.

Bertrand lifted his head, eyes blazing with fear and anger, "Vlad, let me explain," he implored.

Vlad raised his hand, using his telekinetic powers to lift Bertrand off the ground and throw him against the wall. "Explain what Bertrand?" he demanded, a vicious sneer marring his beautifully cut features, "Trying to slay my sister, killing Mina van Helsing, aligning your interests with the Blood Brotherhood? I'm not interested in your explanations."

Scarlett touched Vlad's shoulder, stepping back in alarm as he half turned his head and snarled through his fangs at her. "Vlad, you can't stake him." She shivered involuntarily at the emptiness in Vlad's eyes. "He was trying to help us. He saved me and Charlie. He could have hurt us but he didn't, he saved us."

Vlad barked a laugh of disbelief. His eyes were scathing as they passed over Scarlett to Charlie and back again. "You must be mistaken," he said bitterly.

"Then I must be as well." Robin spoke up as he shoved past Ingrid. "He stopped a vampire from biting me. He handed me back my stake." Robin gave Bertrand an awkward smile of gratitude. "Look mate at the very least..."

"He will only tell lies." Vlad's voice was flat and emotionless.

"Then give him the truth serum." A note of begging entered Scarlett's voice. The thought of this vampire being staked right before her was just too much. The others had at least been attacking them, slaying them had been a form of self-defence but this vampire had been defending them. She knew what she had seen during the fight, she knew she wasn't mistaken about Bertrand being on their side.

"Doesn't work on vampires," Robin said apologetically. "But you know she's right, there must be some way of-"

Scarlett cut him off. "What do you mean it doesn't work on vampires?" Her hands glided to her hips as she cast an angry glare at Vlad.

Robin frowned, looking slightly confused, "Well vampires have slightly different physiology to us so-" he began helpfully.

"Shut up Robin."

Robin raised his eyebrows at the force of Vlad's order. "Alright," he said huffily.

Vlad curled his fingers into a fist, the movement caused Bertrand to gasp in pain and writhe against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Scarlett demanded, her voice breaking slightly from emotion as she watched the vampire suffer silently.

"Making a decision," Vlad replied calmly, the corners of his lips curling into a malevolent smile. "This time Bertrand, I'm going to make sure you're dust," Vlad pulled his hand back slightly, Bertrand's upper body jerked in response, the scarring on his chest increasing in darkness, "By ripping out your heart first and then staking it. Yes, that should prove very effective."

Ingrid's expression brightened. "Oh Vlad, that will do nicely," she purred in evil contentment.

"No!" The word burst past Scarlett's lips instinctively. She instinctively clasped a hand to her heart in shock at what Vlad had just suggested.

"Cool!" Robin caught himself speaking before he thought. "Ow!" He rubbed his arm from where Charlie had instinctively smacked him one. "But seriously mate..." Robin's voice trailed off as the skin continued to darken on Bertrand's chest.

Scarlett couldn't bear it. "Stop it, you're hurting him!" She tossed off Dmitri's restraining arm and marched forward. She tried tugging at Vlad's arm but he was rock solid, it was like pulling at granite, she hadn't realised he was so strong, with a flick of his shoulder Vlad sent her flying.

Dmitri moved fast enough to take the brunt of her fall. Without thanking him, there was no time, Scarlett ran back to Vlad. Dark blood was beginning to seep through Bertrand's skin, the vampire was clearly screaming silently in pain, tears began to fall from Scarlett's eyes, how could Vlad do this? How could any person do this to another? She tugged ineffectively at his arm again, "Vlad, whatever he has done, he doesn't deserve this." She was screaming at him, her voice tinged with hysteria as she tried desperately to stop him.

Vlad didn't even break his focus to glance at her. "You wouldn't understand. You don't have family," he sneered.

Any last vestiges of self-preservation were overrode by Scarlett's temper, a wave of fury crashed over her, red hot emotion surging through her body, drowning any voice of caution deep inside telling her Vlad was dangerous. Stepping directly in front of Vlad and into the flow of telekinetic power, she spat out the words, "Fuck you," before taking a swing at him.

**Chapter 41 teaser**

'_This isn't you. You'll regret it'_


	43. Chapter 41

_**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 41**

There was a loud crack as Scarlett's fist made contact with Vlad's nose. Vlad suddenly doubled up with pain, his hands clutching his face, black blood dripping through his fingers. His concentration was broken, freeing Bertrand who fell onto the floor with a crash. Robin was by the former tutor's side almost instantly, the barrels of his UV gun clicking as he pointed it at Bertrand's heart. "Don't move," he warned.

Muffled swearwords came from behind Vlad's hands; he straightened up, dark blood staining his pale skin. "You broke my nose!" He yelled at Scarlett in furious disbelief. He winced slightly as he reset the bone and flesh. "You actually broke my nose!"

"You were going to rip his heart out!" Scarlett yelled back, her temper still making her oblivious to the dangerous nature of the vampire standing before her. "And you brought up my family, you bastard."

Vlad gaped at her, he could barely believe what he was hearing, "You broke my bloody nose!" He retorted once again since he was at a complete loss as to what else he could say. "Oh shut up Ingrid!" he snapped angrily at his sister who was doubled up for a very different reason.

Ingrid cackled with pure glee, wiping the tears from her eyes, she gave Scarlett a very wide and fangy grin, "I don't usually condone domestic violence but that was superb." At Vlad's irate look, she burst into laughter again.

Bertrand recovered enough to lift his head and speak quietly, "She shouldn't be able to do that." A deep frown creased his brow as he turned his head to study Scarlett.

Vlad's hand moved sharply forward, a short, abrupt movement which telekinetically slammed Bertrand's head back against the wall. There was an unnerving crack as Bertrand's skull impacted against the wall. Knocked unconscious, the former tutor slumped to the floor.

"Vlad!" Scarlett's furious admonishment verged on a shriek. Giving him a fierce scowl, she ran towards the fallen vampire, getting down onto her hands and knees to check him. Her fingers running through the darkness of his hair as she checked for any cracks in his skull. Her first aid training was minimal and it certainly hadn't been taught with the undead in mind.

"Get out of the way."

Looking up from her position on the floor, Scarlett felt a stab of fear pierce through the red mist of her anger. Her heart almost froze in shock as she gazed into the blackness of Vlad's eyes. A fireball was forming in his hand; he was staring at her – no Bertrand – with murderous intent. Scarlett crouched protectively over the vampire, wrapping her arms around the unconscious man as if he were no more than a child. "No." Her voice rang out clearly, the defiance there for all to hear.

Vlad hissed threateningly, revealing his razor sharp fangs not for the first time that evening. "Get out of the way Scarlett." His voice echoed unnaturally around the empty lecture hall. He barely sounded human.

Scarlett inhaled sharply, a strange dull terror ebbing through her, "No." She tightened her arms around Bertrand. She couldn't live with herself if she stepped away and allowed this man to die. She just couldn't.

Vlad stepped closer, an evilness filling his face that she had never seen before, a cruelty in his eyes that almost drove the breath from her body, "I will hurt you," he said menacingly, tossing the growing fireball from hand to hand.

Robin sidestepped into the space between Vlad and Scarlett, his chest rising up and down frantically, his breathing rapid with fear. "You'll have to go through me first." He swallowed hard as he met the sinister blackness of Vlad's eyes. The UV gun hung loosely by his side, even now with his life in imminent danger, Robin couldn't bring himself to point a slayer weapon at his best friend.

Vlad's eyes flared red, "So the slayer turns traitor." His voice was cold, deadly in its calmness, only the disgusted emphasis on the word 'slayer' revealing the depth of his fury.

"I'm not letting you do this," Robin's voice was shaking but he continued to force the words out, "This isn't you Vlad. You'll regret it." Robin exhaled slowly, the breath trembling as it left his body, a testament to just how frightened he was of Vlad but still he didn't budge.

Vlad's roar of rage filled the lecture hall, the sound shaking the walls and foundations of the building, glass shattering, objects tumbling off the walls, lightning and thunder accompanying him. He threw the fireball with brute force up into the ceiling, the flames exploding in a supernova of heat and light, red hot embers falling down on those below. Turning abruptly, his cloak fanning out behind him, Vlad stormed out of the building leaving a trail of destruction behind him as bookcases and paintings plummeted to the floor smashing and destroying countless precious ornaments and artefacts.

Tears were flowing down Scarlett's face, a distraught sob escaping her lips, as she watched him leave.

* * *

Several long minutes passed before any of them moved or spoke. Dmitri had vanished into the night, following his orders to locate and protect Vlad. Scarlett was on her knees, still half crouching over Bertrand, the tears still coming fast and thick down her face. Charlie moved towards her best friend and boyfriend, Robin knew she was torn between wanting to comfort them and wanting to rant at them for their stupidity. Even Ingrid was wearing a look of mild shock at Vlad's actions.

"I should go after him." Ignoring Charlie's glare of outrage, Robin began to walk determinedly towards the heavy oak doors which Vlad had left open after his dramatic departure.

Ingrid caught his arm, her grip vice-like. "No." Her voice was adamant.

Robin tried to shake off her hand, "He's my best friend, he needs me," Robin said firmly.

Ingrid sighed in exasperation. "Look at yourself!" She gestured at Robin's other arm which was still oozing blood. "You're injured."

Robin barely felt the pain in his arm; it wasn't anything serious, nothing that a couple of antiseptic wipes and a clean bandage wouldn't sort out. "Careful Ingrid, anyone would think you cared." He couldn't resist giving her a wolfish grin, just to wind her up.

Ingrid let go of his arm, giving him an aggressive push backwards for good measure. "You have slayer's blood - idiot!" She pushed him again. "Go near Vlad in this mood and he will rip you to pieces."

Robin automatically opened his mouth to protest but the words died in his throat. He wanted to say that Ingrid was being ridiculous, that her words were melodramatic but after what he had just witnessed this evening, he wasn't so sure. "OK." It took considerable effort to force that one word out, it felt like an act of betrayal. At a slight loss as to what to do next, Robin surveyed the damage to the lecture hall; he sighed heavily, it really was a complete state. The grandeur of the vaulted ceiling, the Edwardian furniture and fine furnishings were all pretty much destroyed by a combination of water, fire and dust. Robin couldn't help feeling a pang of regret at the destruction. Glancing around at their group, he suddenly realised that somebody needed to take charge. Given the events of the past hour, he was surprised that the Guild hadn't arrived already but their arrival could only be imminent. Crying over unconscious bodies or arguing about the rights and wrongs of Vlad's actions wouldn't help them if the Guild or the emergency services arrived.

He clapped his hands together, the sound unnaturally harsh in the stillness of the lecture hall. "OK, people we have work to do," he began authoritatively.

* * *

The well oiled bolts of the church doors slid easily into place as Father James turned the heavy key in the lock. Locking the church doors at night was a fairly routine part of his life in Oxford. It was really the duty of the caretaker but Father James was often the last person in the church at night and so he had unofficially assumed the duty. As he pulled the key out of the antique lock, he became aware that he was not alone. Father James was not a timid man, he had seen some fairly horrific scenes and encountered many strange creatures throughout his time on this earth but tonight a cold shiver ran down his spine.

Slipping the key into his pocket, he slowly turned around. He was not surprised to see the two slayers standing there, the bulges in their military coats suggesting that they were fully armed, matching grim expressions on their faces. He had been expecting this type of situation from the moment Professor Teverson had notified him of her contact with the Guild. Indeed, since that poor woman's disappearance, Father James had known he was living on borrowed time. As formidable and loyal as Professor Teverson was, there was only so much the human body and mind could endure before breaking.

"Mr James, you need to come with us," the younger slayer spoke first, his words were polite but that didn't take away from the threat implicit in them.

"Father," the priest corrected him with gentle firmness.

Jonno frowned in confusion. "What?"

Father James gestured down at his religious clothing. "Young man, I am a priest. The correct term of address is Father."

The older slayer stepped forward, a gun glinting in his hand. "As you know the Guild does not abide by any religion."

Father James glanced dismissively at the gun. He had been threatened with far worse in his time. "How can I help you?" He folded his hands peacefully across his middle.

"By coming with us to answer some very interesting questions." Dave's grin was not of the friendly variety.

Father James shook his head. "I am afraid I must decline your kind invitation," he replied, sarcasm seeping through his courteous manner.

Dave pointed the gun directly at Father James' heart. "We insist." He laughed mockingly as Father James glanced down again at the gun. "Where's your God now?" he sneered.

The ominous sound of a gun click and the coldness of steel pressing against his bald patch caused Dave to freeze. "I believe God is acting through his agents." A crisp well-educated voice spoke from behind them. "Namely us. Now, put down the gun."

* * *

The cold night air rushed against Vlad's face, his cape streamed out behind him as he soared higher and faster into the black sky. Far below him, cities twinkled, their yellow glow lighting up the dark land. Vlad's fury led him to push himself further and further, to truly test the limits of his powers. Ignoring any twinges of pain or tiredness from his body, Vlad increased his speed northwards. He knew exactly where he needed to go.

* * *

Hands in the air, Jonno and Dave turned around slowly. A group of seven men surrounded them in a semi-circle, each wearing the traditional grab of the Catholic priest, argentilium swords glinted at their sides, pistols raised in their hands, perhaps most discomfiting of all was their serene calmness.

Dave let a low whistle seep through his teeth. "Well, well, well," he muttered, scowling at the religious collective before him. "Isn't this interesting?"

A priest with sandy hair stood slightly ahead of the others. He appeared to be the one who had threatened Dave. "Quite fascinating," he replied coldly, meeting Dave's hard eyes without so much as flinching.

Jonno placed a warning hand on Dave's shoulder. "We're just leaving," he said hurriedly. Dave stood his ground obstinately, still staring into the green eyes of the sandy haired priest before him.

Jonno held up a white pager, its screen was flashing, "Lieutenant, we have to go." Jonno's voice was sharper this time, his hand more insistent.

Dave glanced at the flashing screen. His scowl deepened. "You haven't seen the last of us," he growled before rudely pushing past. Jonno followed suit, his eyes darting anxiously from the eerily calm faces of the priests to the weaponry in their hands.

Hands on swords, pistols still in the air, the priests as a collective entity watched the men depart. It was only when the slayers were firmly out of ear shot that the sandy haired priest turned back round to Father James, a frown of intense annoyance on his face despite the respectful decline of his head. "Custos lucis."

* * *

Inky black waters lapped at the pillars plunging deep into the sea. The soft waves were soothing both to listen to and watch. Legs dangling precariously over the edge, Vlad gazed down and wondered whether the precious oil beneath the sea bed resembled the dark liquid of the North Sea. Lifting his head, he gazed intently up at the clear night sky; the stars were dazzling pinpricks of light against the velvet deepness of space. Laying back, Vlad lost himself in the beauty of the night. Even for a vampire there was something infinite about the stars. What was six hundred years of unlife compared to the lifespan of a star? And vampires thought they were immortal...

'_A star from the heavens will cause the darkness to fall' _Vlad breathed deeply in and out as he once more puzzled over the words. Words which had twisted around in his mind for months now. Tonight, however, they were serving a useful purpose, they were a distraction from even more pressing troubles. Vlad felt the cold North Sea winds sweep over him, the frost creep over his fingers and face as he lay absolutely still on the platform of the abandoned oil rig. Right now, it felt like the safest course of action was to let himself freeze.

* * *

Charlie grabbed Robin's arm, her green eyes glittering with annoyance, "Robin, you can't leave us," she gestured at the unconscious vampire laying on top of the bedcovers, "what if he wakes up? He's dangerous!"

Robin pressed a kiss against Charlie's forehead. "I would never leave you in danger!" He knew the hurt was all too plain on his face but he was too tired to hide it, "Never Charlie." He stroked the shimmering scarf around her neck. He smiled wistfully as his girlfriend wrapped her fingers around his. "I wouldn't leave you here unless I was confident that every precaution was in place." Robin glanced around the room, granted the location was hardly ideal but he was doing his best in a difficult situation.

Charlie slid her other hand over his bandaged arm. "What about you?" she said softly, "You heard what Ingrid said."

Robin gave Charlie a stern look and hoped that his voice wouldn't betray his inner fears. "Vlad's my best mate, he won't hurt me."

* * *

The streaks of white light across the sky forewarned Vlad that dawn was swiftly approaching. Vlad wrenched himself into a sitting position, his limbs almost creaking from exposure to the cold, his fingers nearly numb from a light coating of ice. He ran his fingers over his aching eyes before forcing himself back onto his feet.

The increased light revealed the rust and disrepair of the abandoned oil rig. It had been so very long since Vlad had last come here. He wondered if his old bottles of soy blood remained in one of the crew rooms down below. His stomach rumbled loudly in the predawn silence. Absentmindedly Vlad pressed a hand to his middle as if to soothe it, he knew that as soon as he arrived in Oxford his appetite would diminish. He knew Dmitri was experiencing a similar loss in appetite. Ingrid wouldn't admit to anything of the sort but Vlad knew for certain that two of her half fangs had become very sick within hours of their arrival in Oxford. He had overheard them complaining about the light, it was all wrong, too bright. The mysterious illness had apparently departed as soon as the half fangs had reached the European mainland.

Oxford. The thought of returning there made his heart ache. He didn't even want to think about what he had nearly done. Not just to Scarlett and Robin, but also to Bertrand. A flicker of anger shot through Vlad at just the thought of his former tutor. He clenched his fists tightly, breathing in and out slowly, as he struggled to maintain control over his emotions. It wasn't that Vlad felt remorse for what he had nearly done to his former tutor, other Grand High Vampires had done much worse to their enemies and in any case Bertrand deserved it... Vlad forced that vicious side thought out of his mind immediately, whether Bertrand deserved it or not was irrelevant. Violence and cruelty was not how Vlad wanted to reign; he had to rise above the darkness of his most vindictive desires.

'_This isn't you Vlad. You'll regret it.' _

Vlad lifted his face to the harshness of the sea wind, "Oh Robin, I already do." His words, no more than an embittered whisper, were lost immediately in the howling gales.

**Chapter 42 teaser**

'_I know what a Dalek is'_


	44. Chapter 42

_**Hey lovely people! Posting slightly earlier than usual because this weekend is going to be a bit crazy, hope no-one minds! Thank you very much for the reviews on the last chapter, I really appreciate them.**_

_**I've got some good/bad news for you guys. The bad news is that I'm afraid I'm going to stop posting DiF for a while. Basically real life has been getting in the way of my writing and I need some time to catch up. Don't worry I promise I'm not quitting DiF! (In fact I've been contemplating a sequel.) Hopefully I should only need a week or two before I start posting again. I'm really sorry to do this, I hope it won't put people off reading and reviewing.**_

_**The good news (well I hope you think it's good) is that I will still be around on FFN. I'm hoping to post some one-shots instead over the next couple of weeks. In particular, I'm thinking about writing a one-shot 'Responsibility' explaining Charlie and Scarlett's friendship. Let me know if any of you would be interested as I know they are only OCs.**_

_**Right epic A/N over. Hope you enjoy this, thank you for all of your support and sorry once again! xo**_

**Chapter 42 **

Out of all the rooms in the mansion that Ingrid could have chosen to skulk in, she wasn't sure why she had chosen this one, this particular spot. After all it was hardly ideal. Vlad could return at any moment, still in a thunderous mood and he would not be amused to find his sister curled up in the mock turret tower. Ingrid had been on the receiving end of Vlad's temper before and as much as she hated to admit it Vlad was rather ... formidable when he was having of his moods.

But there was something about this spot, Ingrid felt safer here than she did in her own coffin. She knew it was irrational but having come face to face with her ex lover and attempted assassin, she just wanted to be somewhere she felt safe and comfortable. Resting her head against the cool stonework, a black shawl draped around her shoulders even though she didn't need the extra warmth, Ingrid curled up into a ball and tried to sort out her incoherent thoughts.

"Bertrand." His name almost felt foreign on her tongue now. Had she really once called out that name in passion? The thought made her feel sick. How could she have been so stupid? Vlad's former tutor was proof that you could never let your guard down, that feelings between vampires were worthless, and worst of all that she would always be second best to Vlad. Ingrid could recall very little of the actual incident, the drugs had seen to that. If she was honest with herself she didn't want to remember, she didn't want to delve into those blurred hours of pain and terror. Her first real memory of afterwards was Wolfie. The tearstained face of her little brother, his bottom lips trembling as he tried to hold back his tears, his sweet kiss against her cheek, his lips tugging clumsily at her hair, his whispered, "Get better soon," and the way he had pressed his teddy bear's nose against her face in a pretend kiss.

Vlad had maintained a vigil by her bedside. Or so Ryan had said. Ingrid couldn't remember him being there. Certainly there were glimpses of him in her mind but his presence didn't have the same vividness as Wolfie. A white drawn face, blue eyes huge with concern, Vlad's voice reassuring her that Bertrand had been dealt with and that she was safe. Well, that was just one of many lies from the Chosen One.

Heavy footsteps sounded against the uncarpeted staircase, Ingrid snarled instinctively in warning. She had given specific instructions that she wanted to be alone. The mouth-watering scent of slayer and aftershave tantalised her nose. A head of dark unruly hair peeked around the corner. Inwardly, Ingrid screamed with sheer frustration as Robin beamed at her. "Hello!"

"He's not here. Flap off." Ingrid didn't bother raising her head from its resting place. She averted her gaze from her brother's best friend. She didn't have the energy to deal with this traitor, not now, not after the events of tonight.

"I'm not here for Vlad." Robin squirmed slightly under the penetrating look Ingrid shot him, "Well I am because I need to speak to him. But right now I'm here because of you."

Ingrid's only response was to curl her lip in disgust.

"Budge up." Robin moved to squeeze into the space beside her. Really Ingrid should have tore his throat out, how dare anyone touch the Princess of Darkness without her permission, let alone a repulsive half-wit like Branagh, but Ingrid was just too tired and empty to even put up a show of defiance. It was only the warmth of Robin's body pressing against her side in the too small space that finally made her shift slightly. Not enough though, there was barely any space at all between her and Robin and for some reason the heat emanating from his body was oddly comforting.

Cardboard scraped against cardboard and the intense smell of chocolate wafted up Ingrid's nose. She almost groaned with desire. Stakes and garlic! What was Branagh trying to do to her? The mixture of chocolate, his blood and aftershave had to be the most erotic scent she had experienced in oh so - _too_ - long.

"Ben and Jerry's?" Robin's elbow pressed against her arm.

Ingrid turned to glare at him. "What?" she replied coldly.

Robin held out the tub of ice cream, a spoon lodged in the thick coldness, a hopeful smile plastered over his stupid face, "It's the one with both brownies and cookies." He continued to wear the dopey smile even after she frowned at him. "Never mind." He dug out a mouthful of the ice cream and ate it with obvious pleasure.

Ingrid snatched the tub from him. "Give me that." She stared suspiciously down at the contents, swirls of chocolate and whiteness, bits of cake lodged amongst the frozen cream. "Ugh," she said with a petulant grimace, "Haven't you got another spoon? This," She held up the offending silverware, "has disgusting slayer germs on it."

"Nope." Robin took the spoon and, with a positively evil smirk, deliberately licked it. "Guess this ice cream is all mine." He patted the flatness of his stomach with an ever widening grin.

Ingrid stared speechlessly at him. Oh hellfire, the sight of his tongue sliding against the silver metal of that spoon, caused something once familiar and fiery to race through her veins. "Give me that," she growled, her vampire reflexes ensuring the safe retrieval of the spoon. Angrily, she stabbed the ice cream viciously with the spoon and began eating. Lucifer's garlic, this stuff was incredible! Why had no one ever told her about this food stuff? Nearly a quarter of the tub was gone before she handed it back to Robin. For the next half hour, they sat in companionable silence swapping the spoon and scoffing the contents of the ice cream tub.

"So," Robin began hesitantly, "Vlad told me about you and Bertrand."

The spoon stopped halfway to Ingrid's mouth. "Oh did he?" The bitterness was all too evident in her voice.

Robin affectionately nudged his shoulder against hers. "You ok?"

The gentleness in his quietly spoken question caused something to break inside Ingrid but somehow she managed to force herself to laugh mockingly in reply. "Of course," she knew her tone was too snappy to be casual, "I only wish I had thought of it first." Robin's understanding smile infuriated her and she found herself ranting at him, "It's what vampire do zombie brain! They turn on each other, they stab each other in the back and we were rivals, enemies from the very start. Why should that suddenly change just because we occasionally shared a coffin? It meant nothing, he saw an opportunity for power and he seized it, just like I would have done."

Robin seemed completely unfazed by her emotional outburst. He took the spoon off her and slowly swallowed the melting mixture of ice cream and cookie. Finally, after a very long pause, he spoke softly, "Then he was an idiot." The strength of conviction in his voice temporarily disarmed Ingrid. "If he chose power over you."

His words made Ingrid impossibly breathless. Staring into Robin's face, Ingrid felt like she was seeing him for the first time. His eyes, dark limpid pools full of trust and admiration, the sharp features of his face so stunningly cut, the straightness of the nose that he had finally grown into and his lips firm, perfectly shaped and... oh fog! He was utterly gorgeous. Finally, Ingrid recognised the burning sensation inside deep her, she _fancied _Robin Branagh. Flapping hell!

Robin bit his lip anxiously, a self-conscious hand creeping to his mouth, "Did I spill some?" he asked naively.

Ingrid realised that she was staring. "Yeah." Giving him a nasty smirk, she grabbed the spoon from his hands and smeared the melted liquid over his face. Stunned, Robin just stared at her for a few seconds before unexpectedly bursting into laughter and unusually instead of getting angry, Ingrid found herself joining in. Her giggles faded as she heard the click of the front door. Looking up into Robin's eyes, once again she found herself struggling to act like her usual evil self. "Vlad's back. Better run along to your master." She hated the way he gave her that goofy grin, the way he bumped his shoulder against hers and the smartly delivered "Yes Mistress" that came from that oh so perfect mouth. As Robin clattered down the staircase, Ingrid closed her eyes, the stonework cold and soothing against her skin, her stomach churning with the revelation. '_Yes Mistress_.' If only...

* * *

Vlad was slumped over the kitchen table staring into his mug like it held all the answers to his problems. He hadn't even bothered to take off his cape; there were still fragments of ice lingering in his hair, the circles under his eyes as dark as Robin had ever seen them. The contrast between the angry powerful Vlad of last night and the weary, if slightly sad, figure before him couldn't be any clearer but still Robin hesitated in the doorway, not sure if he was welcome after Vlad's last words to him.

"I'm sorry." Vlad didn't even have to look up from the table to know that Robin was there. He supposed that the scent of his slayer blood must still linger despite how tightly Charlie had bandaged the wound. Still staring into his mug, Vlad continued to speak, "I haven't been a very good friend to you."

The dejection in his voice stirred Robin into action. Vlad's words weren't just referring to the threats and insults of last night, they both knew that. "Is there a bacon sarnie going spare? I'm starving." Robin kept his voice light and cheerful as he stepped into the kitchen and pulled out the chair beside Vlad.

Finally Vlad's eyes lifted from the mug, the gratitude all too evident in his blue depths, a wan smile spreading across his face. He pushed the plate of sandwiches towards his best friend.

* * *

Sunlight bright and warm against his skin. But not burning. Shackles. Mixed scents in the air. A pounding headache almost caused Bertrand to wince out loud but he caught himself in time. Outwardly, he showed no signs of regaining consciousness, his body laying completely still, his eyes remaining shut, no indication of pain escaping his lips.

A dull ache resided in his chest as he remembered the events in the lecture hall. It took considerable effort to stop his lips twitching into a proud smile. Vlad was superbly vicious and vindictive. The wrath may have been directed against him personally but Bertrand was professional enough to admire the cruelty that he had instilled in his protégée. Not to mention Vlad's cunning, what a clever stunt to pull, carefully engaging in one to one combat with him, waiting until he accidentally lowered his telepathic guard before attacking him so brutally. He really had done a most excellent job with the Dracula boy.

The pain in his head had now cleared sufficiently for Bertrand to assess his situation. The softness of the furniture beneath him suggested he was on a bed rather than a coffin. The sunlight on his face and hands indicated that he was exposed but somehow protected, most likely UV filters; the Chosen One had refurbished all his residences with them much to the Council's disapproval. Garlic and argentilium lingered in the air mixing unpleasantly with Vlad's scent and the taint of slayer. His wrists and ankles were bound, a tiny experimental flex of the muscles in his hand indicated he was wearing fang cuffs, grade 13, standard issue for beginners. Hmm how insulting.

* * *

Rubbing his fingers against his aching eyes, Vlad groaned deeply. He pushed away the mug of soy blood that Dmitri set down on his desk. Everything was in such a mess. He simply didn't have the time to deal with his former tutor and advisor on top of everything else. He needed to depart for Transylvania at dusk. He had Council meetings, clan meetings, endless paperwork, executions to witness and of course the blood oath ceremony for his newly trained guards. There wasn't time in his tightly packed schedule to deal with Bertrand's revelations. He knew he should have finished the job last night. A sharp stake through the heart, no more arguments, no more game playing. Letting Bertrand unlive another second was probably a lethal mistake and yet deep down he knew he made the right decision in flying away. He couldn't put his friends at risk like that, he had been out of control and he was ashamed that they had to witness that side of him.

He opened his eyes to find Robin watching him with a look of concern. Thank Lucifer for Robin. Even after the hurtful words he had said last night, Robin was still here. Even if he was coming out with the most ridiculous arguments against slaying Bertrand.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Vlad repeated his question. "What do you mean he's under Scarlett's protection?"

Robin squirmed slightly under the combined scrutiny of Vlad and Dmitri's eyes. "She's not going to let you hurt him," he replied simply. "Seriously Vlad, it's going to be like the fox cubs all over again. She's gone all mother hen."

Vlad laughed bitterly. "How appropriate," he replied drily. He ignored the twinge of pain at Robin's words. He didn't know what his best friend was referring to when he spoke of the fox cubs and he didn't want to ask. It was another reminder that his presence in this friendship group was transient. "How exactly she is going to stop me?" Vlad demanded his voice hardening with resentment.

Robin shifted uneasily in his seat. "Vlad," he began, a tone of warning accompanying his words, "You can't hurt her."

Vlad looked away from Robin's dark probing gaze. They both knew he could. Easily. Far too easily in fact. "She does know that he is a bloodthirsty, serial killing, four hundred year old vampire with serious insanity issues- right?" Without waiting for Robin's answer, he pushed back his chair and strode over to the window. The grey gloomy day out suited his mood.

Robin chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment then his face brightened. "I know, "he grinned confidently. "Bertrand is a Dalek."

Vlad turned around slowly from the window. "A Dalek?" he said incredulously.

"You know, from Doctor Who." Robin leant over to pick up Vlad's mug of soy blood.

Vlad was instantly by his side, his hand encircling Robin's arm halting its progress towards the mug. "I know what a Dalek is." He nodded at Dmitri to take the mug away. You really couldn't trust Robin around vampire things. It was a good thing Vlad didn't keep any actual blood around or Robin would have done his best to try and pilfer some of that.

"Spoilsport," Robin muttered under his breath before continuing to speak more loudly. "OK, so you know they are ruthless, emotionless creatures who want to kill everything that is not a Dalek. They are the most terrifying enemy of the Doctor. They're freaking scary right?"

"Er..." Vlad settled for nodding slowly. He had to admit the description did fit Bertrand rather well.

"Except Scarlett is a newcomer to the whoniverse, one of those who only started watching Doctor Who when it was re-launched by RTD in 2005," Robin shook his head disapprovingly. "I suppose it's not really her fault. Anyway so the first time she came across a Dalek was in series 1, episode 6, technically though, it was really series -"

Vlad sighed with exaggerated boredom; he raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Fine, fine." Robin rolled his eyes in response. "In this episode a Dalek was imprisoned, it was being tortured, it was the victim, not the predator and the Doctor sort of lost it and began yelling at it, told it to die, threatened it with this huge gun..."

"Robin!" Vlad interjected sharply. "Does this story have a point?"

"Yes!" Robin stared at him seemingly bewildered by Vlad's lack of understanding. "Don't you see Vlad? Scarlett has never found the Daleks scary, since that episode her first impression of a Dalek is that of a vulnerable and lonely creature being bullied by someone who should know better." Evidently Vlad's confusion was written all over his face. "And that's how she views Bertrand! It doesn't matter how many stories you tell of Bertrand being some evil monster, all she can see is a vampire who knelt before you in loyalty and whose heart you threatened to rip out."

Vlad gaped slightly at Robin's words. "Wait - she thinks _I'm_ the baddie?" he spluttered completely aghast.

Robin nodded solemnly. "And Bertrand's the sweet lonely Dalek."

* * *

Charlie blocked the door. "He's not your responsibility!" Her green eyes flashed angrily. Couldn't Scarlett see how dangerous this Bertrand was? His aura was soaked in blood, his soul blackened beyond any evil that Charlie had ever come across. Just the memory of those colours made Charlie shiver with fear.

Scarlett placed her hands on Charlie's shoulder and gently attempted to move her out of the way. "I remember saying something similar to you once."

Charlie gripped the door frame. "That was completely different." How Scarlett even begin to compare herself to Bertrand?

Scarlett's eyes pleaded with her. "Charlie, he has no one else to stick up for him. If I don't then who will? You saw what Vlad was like." Scarlett let go of Charlie's shoulders, bright tears threatening to swell up in her eyes; she took a shaky breath as if trying to calm herself down.

Charlie resisted the urge to say 'I told you so'. Especially because she hadn't. She had only thought it. She had never once said to Scarlett that she shouldn't get involved with Vlad but now as far she was concerned the so-called Chosen One had shown his true colours last night. He was as nasty and as blood-crazed as any of the vampires her Nan had told her about. He didn't deserve Robin's devoted loyalty. In fact he deserved Robin's friendship just as much as this Bertrand deserved Scarlett's care. Scarlett and Robin, they were as stubborn as each other and just as unstoppable. Reaching out, Charlie pulled her best friend into a hug. "You're such an idiot sometimes," she whispered into Scarlett's hair.

Scarlett half giggled, half sobbed. "Should have let me jump then."

Charlie scowled fiercely as she hugged her tighter. "Never."

* * *

Vlad rose stiffly from his chair. Lack of sleep, his injuries and the chilling wind of the North Sea meant that his joints were aching. In a strange way, Vlad found the pain reassuring; it reminded him that he was still undead. "The sooner I dispose of Bertrand, the better. Scarlett...well I'll just have to deal with it somehow." He glanced out of the window at the overcast greyness. It was a perfect day for him to exercise his ability to control the weather. A good thick mist would be effective in blocking the harmful rays of the sun thus ensuring safe passage between the Banbury residence and Winterville College. Vlad didn't want to wait until sunset; he had far too much to do in Transylvania without waiting around to sort out his scheming tutor. "I'll come with you to collect Bertrand." He didn't trust Bertrand alone with Robin, his best friend was a slayer and Bertrand had proven himself to be rather ill disposed to slayers. Besides with Vlad present, there was less risk of Bertrand escaping under the cover of the mist. The last thing Oxford needed was a psychotic vampire on the loose.

Robin laughed nervously. "Might be a slight problem with that," he said awkwardly.

Vlad's eyes narrowed. "Why? He is in your room, isn't he?"

The carpet seemed to have become remarkably interesting from the way Robin stared at it. "Not exactly." Robin almost squeaked the words.

An ominous feeling began to stir inside Vlad. "Where is he?"

**Chapter 43 teaser**

'_I'm invincible.'_


	45. Chapter 43

_**Hey people! I have some major apologising to do. I thought I would only need a week or so to catch up but real life has been really rather rude and continues to be very disruptive. However I am making progress and I should *fingers crossed* be able to start posting normally from next Saturday onwards. However, I am concerned at my neglect of DiF readers (and I miss your lovely reviews ) so I thought I'd post this one today to whet your appetite for the drama ahead. **_

_**To Amy, thank you very much for the lovely review – I am old enough to have some experience of university life – which probably makes me too old to watch Young Dracula but its awesomeness cannot/should not be contained within age brackets. Hope you are feeling better now!**_

_**Sorry loads for the delay in posting but I really hope that you will enjoy this! **_

_**xo**_

_**ps: How many hours until Series 4? **_

**Chapter 43**

Crumbs, crumpled napkins and cooling cups of tea were scattered around the round table. Even secretive organisations required subsistence during early morning meetings. Particularly when it was an emergency one with all the confrontations and accusations that such meetings generally entailed.

"How could you let things deteriorate to this level?" Father Michael made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "The Guild have a taskforce in Oxford tracking down our property, Professor Teverson has turned traitor or been captured, either way she's leaking information to our enemies and to top it all off Scarlett has been consorting with Dracula!" The priest sat back in his seat, an expression of astounded anger on his fine features, "Is there anything _else_ that's gone wrong?"

"There's something between Scarlett and Dracula." Father James almost enjoyed the flurry of murmurs and surprised gasps that followed this statement. The look of shock on Father Michael's face was particularly gratifying. "A spark, if you will."

"A spark?" Father Gabriel delicately set down his cup of tea as he repeated Father James' words. "Of the romantic variety?"

Father James nodded firmly. "I believe they have a fondness for one another that exceeds friendship." There was no doubt about the meaning of his words. "Now, you might understand why I was reluctant to disrupt matters."

Father Michael laughed disbelievingly. "That's impossible! Dracula and Scarlett? A vampire and a -"

"No." Father Gabriel leant forward, hope lighting up his face, "Don't you see? Their love could break the cycle." There was a growing sense of excitement as he glanced around the table. "Maybe, this time it doesn't have to end with death."

* * *

Taking a deep breath to compose herself; Scarlett checked that her neck was fully covered by the argentilium scarf before she unlocked the door to her room. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she peeked around the door to find the vampire as unconscious and as still as they had left him.

"He's still out," she whispered over her shoulder to Charlie. "Poor pet."

Charlie made a sound of exasperation. "He's a psychopathic vampire, not a poor pet!" Nonetheless, she followed her best friend into the room. She tried to keep her grip on the UV bomb as light as possible; the last thing she wanted was for it to break prematurely leaving them unprotected against Bertrand.

Scarlett tiptoed around the bed and set the basin of ice packs on her bedside cabinet. "Just look at him Charlie," she whispered softly.

"I have," Charlie answered shortly. She could see a great deal more than a pretty face when she looked at Bertrand.

Scarlett couldn't resist throwing a cheeky smile over her shoulder at Charlie. "Who wouldn't have?" Her gaze returned to the unconscious vampire and suddenly all her attempts at trying to be cheerful, of trying to act like this was a perfectly normal situation seemed utterly futile. Vlad had done this. The thought twisted painfully in her chest. Vlad, her sweet gentle Vlad, had been prepared to rip this vampire's heart out. As it was he had inflicted immense pain and untold damage. Her breath shuddered as she tried to blink back the swelling tears in her eyes. Robin was right about one thing, crying or falling apart was not going to help the situation. She desperately wanted to hide under her duvet with enough chocolate to last any normal person a lifetime and cry her eyes out over just how wrong she had been about Vlad. The past twelve or so hours had taken on a surreal nightmarish quality, a part of her was still expecting to wake up and realise it had been nothing more than a terrible dream.

"I can't stop thinking about it." The words crept past her lips. Scarlett shook her head in annoyance at her weakness. "No, don't Charlie." Without even needing to look behind, Scarlett knew her best friend was moving forward to give her another hug. Right now, Scarlett couldn't face it. The kindness of the gesture would set her off again; she needed to hold herself together for at least long enough to figure out what they were going to do with their four hundred year old guest. Her resolve stiffening, Scarlett glanced once more at the pages of Magpyr's _Bloodless First Aid for Vampyrs _before picking up an icepack. With the greatest care, she tilted Bertrand's head upwards so she could slide the cold material underneath his skull. Gently, she eased his head back against the pillow. Standing upright again, Scarlett looked upon Bertrand thoughtfully. He really was an incredibly gorgeous man. She wondered how many women or men he had drawn in with those brooding good looks before pitilessly draining them. Vlad's tone when speaking of his former tutor had been intensely bitter and yet his stories of Bertrand's murderous ruthlessness seemed at odds with Bertrand's actions. If Bertrand hated breathers so much then why had he saved her? If he was supposedly driven by revenge then why had he fought on their side? Kneeling before Vlad, throwing the swords away, those were not the actions of a person seeking retaliation.

Cautiously, her fingers began to ease the blood soaked material of his ripped tunic away from his skin. Beneath the leather exterior, the cloth clung to his damaged flesh and she worried that her actions were causing him further pain. As she moved to pick up a warm cloth to wipe away the dark blood, a flicker of movement caught her attention. His long dark eyelashes were fluttering slightly against the paleness of his skin. "Bertrand," Scarlett tried to make her voice steady and calm, "It's ok, you're safe now." Forgetting about her own safety, she leaned over him. Brilliant blue eyes flashed open. A large hand fastened around her wrist, the fang cuffs falling down against the bedcovers. Before Scarlett could even draw another breath, Bertrand was bending over her, the sharp points of his fangs scraping against the skin of her neck.

* * *

Jonno landed with a thud against the wall just as Dave emerged from the secure containment unit. Thomas was clutching his fist, scowling fiercely at the young slayer, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Clearly this had been more than a mere scuffle.

"What's going on?" Dave glanced from Jonno to the head of the Oxfordshire division.

"He wouldn't let me inspect my own headquarters," Thomas shot an accusatory glare at Jonno.

Dave raised his eyebrows. "You know access is denied to the containment area." He planted himself directly in front of the door he had just locked.

"Yes but I don't know why." Thomas drew himself up to his full height. "That area has been off limits for nearly two weeks. What are you hiding?"

"In accordance with regulation 8.11, I have taken control of this division," Dave recited the Guild's rulebook in a monotone. "I have full jurisdiction over all members and facilities of the said division. Under 8.11 (b) (iii) no member of the division may question my authority without the prior permission of a level 10 slayer." Dave noted with satisfaction the way in which Thomas clenched his fists." In other words unless Loewe himself turns up at his garrison you have to do what I say. Without question." Dave squared up to the older man, physically dominating him with his much larger frame. A smirk pulled at his lips as Thomas' gaze fell to the ground. "Do you understand me now?" He couldn't resist jeering at the defeated slayer.

Thomas stepped away, his eyes still focused on Dave's feet. "Perfectly." Without saying another word, he turned his back on them and began walking off, a steady pace at first and then faster almost running down the corridor.

Dave placed his hands on his hips in a triumphant stance. "See van Helsing, that's how you deal with-"

"Your shoes!" Jonno interrupted. "They're covered in blood."

Dave glanced down at his shoes and muttered a profanity under his breath. His head snapped in the direction of the fleeing slayer. "Get him!"

* * *

"Ingrid, are you coming or not?" Vlad snapped as he threw a UV-resistant cloak at his sister.

Ingrid let the cloak drop onto the floor as she languidly strolled across the reception hall. "She's your blood bag, not mine. Why should I care if she gets drained?" Leaning against the staircase, Ingrid sniffed disdainfully as she watched Vlad's frantic preparations. "You should have staked him when you had the chance."

Vlad's jaw tightened in anger. Robin could tell he was barely holding back, he laid a cautious hand on Vlad's upper arm. "Come on mate. We have damsels to save." The brightness of his voice was too fake to fool anyone let alone the Dracula siblings.

"Off to play the knight in shining armour," Ingrid laughed contemptuously, "If you fancy a quest, how about bringing me Bertrand's head on a platter?" She had to shout the last few words as Vlad slammed the door behind him.

* * *

He had absolutely no intention of actually biting the blonde, Vlad got remarkably testy about anyone sinking fangs into his little conquests, the Chosen One could be very territorial. No, this was a simple exercise of power, a matter of putting the breather back in her coffin so to speak. Nobody called Bertrand du Fortunesa a 'poor pet'! Yet, as his fangs pressed against the smooth creaminess of her skin, something deep inside, an almost primitive instinct caused him to jerk back slightly, hopefully not enough for his supposed victim to notice. There was no thirst, no burning ache for the blood which flowed so freely beneath that fragile skin. How very curious.

"Don't you dare!" It took Bertrand a split second to realise that the blonde was speaking to the medium. The metal casing of an UV bomb glittered brightly in the sunlight as the dark haired girl hesitated. "He's not going to bite."

The confidence of her voice made Bertrand long to rip her throat out in retaliation, it was only the frantic pace of her heart which reassured him that he was as terrifying as ever. He chuckled cruelly, a hand rising to brush a tendril of golden hair away from her neck, "Then it's true what they say about blondes," he sneered nastily.

Placing a hand firmly over the reopened wounds on his chest, the blonde pushed him back roughly. A hiss of pain escaped Bertrand's lips at her actions. Despite her racing heartbeat, the blonde met his gaze calmly but then again Vlad liked them with a bit of courage. "You're not going to bite me or her. It would displease Vl –him."

Bertrand tilted his head slightly to scrutinise her all the more intently. "I'm not entirely certain that Vlad," he emphasised the Chosen One's name deliberately, enjoying the slight tremor that passed through the girl at the mention of his master, "would mind his pet being punished. You stepped outside the boundaries last night - _breather_." Colour flooded her cheeks, ah mortals! They were so easily betrayed by their violate blood.

"That was necessary," she replied defensively.

Bertrand's eyes blackened with anger. "You desecrated the Grand High Vampire," he snarled, rising once more to a sitting position, his face level with hers, sharp fangs gleaming.

Scarlett glared back. "To stop him from hurting you! Or would you rather I let him rip your heart out?" She folded her arms across her chest smugly, clearly thinking that she had won the argument.

"Yes," Bertrand answered immediately. He heard her sharp intake of breath at his response. Her eyebrows arched in surprise, a troubled look settling upon her face.

"You can't possibly mean that." The concern in her voice was laughable. There was stalemate as her sapphire eyes, so like Vlad's, gazed anxiously into his as if she was searching for something in him.

Bertrand deliberately looked away. No breather should have dared to meet his gaze let alone try to search his bloodstained soul. Only the touch of a warm cloth against his chest, a few minutes later, caused him to glance back at her, this time with a threatening hiss. Unperturbed, Scarlett continued to press the cloth against his chest, her touch surprisingly gentle given her knowledge of what he was. "You need tending." There was an almost maternal tone to her words which only served to confuse him further.

Tensed, ready to attack at any moment, Bertrand permitted her to clean his wounded chest. Thankfully, she didn't bore him with any inconsequential chatter; if anything she seemed completely absorbed in her task, only speaking to murmur an occasional apology when she had to prise a particularly matted piece of cloth from his flesh. Bertrand seized the opportunity to observe one of his enemies at close quarters.

He had miscalculated in his estimation of Vlad's companions. The slayer boy, Robin Branagh, had obviously been the most interesting. Technically speaking that was how it should be, as a slayer Robin was the most significant threat. His childhood association and obvious closeness to Vlad only made him even more of menace to Bertrand's future position. As a human with supernatural abilities, the medium was the second most interesting, although nowhere near as threatening as her apparent boyfriend. Her association with the Chosen One seemed fairly trivial but, still, her unusual talents could prove hazardous to an ambitious vampire. The blonde, this Scarlett, had been the least important. Another breather conquest to add to Vlad's fairly extensive list. She did, however, have the potential to turn into a weak spot for Vlad given that he had kept her around for much longer than any of his previous partners. The exclusivity of the ..._relationship_, Bertrand grimaced with distaste causing the object of his thoughts to murmur another sincere sounding apology; yes the exclusivity was unusual for the Chosen One. Looking up at her, Bertrand could reluctantly admit that she was pleasing to the eye, if you had a preference for her type of traditional beauty. That, in itself, was hardly important, slim, curvaceous, tall, petite, dark, blonde, red hair, to his credit the Dracula boy had always chosen beautiful women. It was just apity that he didn't stick to his own species. No, her beauty was irrelevant. Yet, she was no longer to be dismissed as entirely insignificant. There was something unusual about this particular breather. Something that didn't quite fit.

* * *

"Regardless, of her past assistance Professor Teverson has betrayed the Order. We should not waste resources rescuing a traitor. Furthermore, any such intervention would only draw even more attention to us. How can we be expected to achieve our objectives if we are under the scrutiny of the Guild?" Finishing his argument, Father Michael took a sip of his tea and watched for the inevitable counterargument from Father James.

He was not disappointed as the Irish priest leant over the table, an impassioned look on his face. "We cannot in good conscience leave that poor women in the hands of the Guild. I waited long enough to call in reinforcements. It was her disappearance that finally drove me to contact you."

Father Tobias threw his hands up in the air. "I think it's rather late to worry about the Guild's attention." His remark drew a couple of chuckles from the other members. After their little display outside the Church last night, they all knew that it was foolish to think that the Guild wouldn't investigate further. "The way I see it," Father Tobias continued, "Rescuing Professor Teverson and relocating her family is the only realistic means of addressing the information leak." He gave a nod of acknowledgement towards Father James, "Besides, I concur that the woman has served us faithfully for many years. We owe her a duty of care regardless of how she came to be in the Guild's possession."

Father Michael set down his cup of tea. "Very well, I say it's time we put this to the vote."

* * *

"Are you aware that I could rip your limbs apart in the time it would take you to blink?" Bertrand asked pleasantly, in much the same tone as an ordinary person would use to comment on the weather. "The medium reeks of fear and yet you..." Bertrand's eyes narrowed dangerously as he surveyed her.

Scarlett brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "Didn't I mention it before?" She gave him a cynical smile. "I'm invincible."

Bertrand's eyes flickered over to the medium and the strange sadness which filled her eyes at Scarlett's words. Before he could retort, the door crashed open and Vlad strode into the room followed swiftly by Dmitri and Robin. Flinging back his hood, the Chosen One snarled through his fangs in a warning at Bertrand. "Has he hurt you?" Vlad demanded of the two girls, his voice sounding grittier and deeper than any human should sound.

Scarlett folded up the remains of Bertrand's tunic. "No, of course not," she glowered defiantly at Vlad, "You had better not be here to hurt him." Yes his protégée certainly liked them to be brave - and foolish - if this breather was anything to go by.

The sourness on Vlad's face verged on comical, it was clear that his pet's actions were displeasing. "We'll see," he scowled deeply, moving forward until they were just inches apart. "Step aside breather."

Seeing that Scarlett was practically seething with rage, Robin intervened. Wrapping a brotherly arm around her shoulders, the slayer tried to tug her away from her defensive position. "Honestly, Scarlett he's not going to hurt him." To the slayer's obvious relief, Scarlett followed him. Bertrand wondered if Vlad saw how tightly her body was pressed against the slayer, if he noticed how she was trembling. The slayer must have noticed because his arm tightened around her in a poor attempt to offer reassurance.

Vlad wore a dark foreboding look as he approached his former tutor and advisor. "Bertrand du Fortunesa, you are officially entering into the custody of the Grand High Vampire."

**Chapter 44 teaser**

_It wasn't going to be easy but since when had anything worthwhile been easy to accomplish?_


	46. Chapter 44

_**Hey people! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I was worried that you would have lost interested given the time gap so it meant a lot to hear that you are still reading and enjoying it.**_

_**Lots of drama coming up in the next few chapters! I want to warn you all in advance that I'll be changing the rating to M in the next couple of weeks. (Blame DiF!Vlad – entirely his fault!) Don't worry I don't tend to write graphic stuff but I'd rather err on the side of caution with the rating system. **_

_**Hope you enjoy this! **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 44**

"Why is his head still attached?" Out of all the things Ingrid could have said, upon coming face to face with her former lover, Vlad supposed that this was the best he could have hoped for. Ingrid stood on the staircase, arms folded defensively across her chest, scowling fiercely at him. Bertrand, it appeared, was beneath her attention. Or at least that was the impression she was aiming for.

The prisoner looked up from his position kneeling on the carpet. "Nice to see you too _Countess_," he hissed sarcastically, earning himself a cuff across the head from Vlad. Hard enough to sting badly but not hard enough to cause concussion. Evidently, still, too hard for Scarlett who gasped in outrage at his actions.

"Vlad! He's cuffed!" she snapped angrily. "That's not fair."

Giving her a nonchalant smile, Vlad raised his hand to strike Bertrand again. He hoped that his outward appearance gave no indication of the hurt and anger that her irrational behaviour was stirring deep inside him. He wanted to rage at her, shout, scream, shake some bloody common sense into her. Why couldn't she see the obvious? Bertrand was dangerous! Vlad was simply doing what it took to protect the people he cared about.

Scarlett moved forward to grab Vlad's hand, a futile attempt to stop him from taking his temper out on the imprisoned vampire. A small nod to Dmitri ensured that she was safely restrained. No doubt he would receive an ear bashing for that little move as well.

Grabbing the collar of Bertrand's UV resistant robes, Vlad half dragged his former tutor towards the training room in the basement. The older vampire followed him with surprisingly little resistance, something which only heightened Vlad's suspicions. He held up a hand to stop the others, especially Dmitri and Ingrid, from following him.

"Your Highness!" Dmitri protested; his anxiety for Vlad's well-being all too plain on his face. If it had been any other vampire, Vlad would have been insulted; however, given Bertrand's history he understood his protector's concern.

Vlad shook his head firmly. "No. Bertrand," Vlad spat out his tutor's name, "and I have to talk in private." He shoved Bertrand through the door to the cellar, his actions careless of Bertrand's welfare as the cuffed prisoner almost stumbled on the stairs. Vlad directed his next words at Ingrid and Scarlett, who wore matching expressions of annoyance, "No arguments, no interruptions." He underlined this order by slamming the cellar door behind him.

* * *

It wasn't going to be easy but since when had anything worthwhile been easy to accomplish? It seemed, this time at least, Vlad had no intention of torturing him to a final death. The Chosen One flung him towards a chair and then stalked towards the other side of the room to drag a matching chair, legs screeching in protest, across the floor. Bertrand slowly eased his body onto the chair, trying to resist the urge to place a hand across his chest, a persistent sharp pain throbbed there reminding him that although his heart was unbeating, it still wasn't advisable for a vampire to try and function without it. It would take him weeks to recover from the injuries sustained last night _if _he was given the chance to do so. If Vlad decided not to execute him.

_Vlad._

Everything that Bertrand had worked towards this past year was currently sitting in front of him. Vlad's cape was discarded carelessly on the door, clearly, he still hadn't learnt how to tidy up after himself, his jaw was tight with tension, his perfect lips pressed together in anger, almost pouting and those eyes, those beautiful sapphire eyes were focused on him. "You can start lying now." Vlad sat back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest, his frame was still boyishly slender but it was clear from his developing muscles that he had continued to follow his tutor's exercise regime during his lengthy absence.

Despite the burning pain in his chest, Bertrand forced himself to sit upright, he refused to give into the urge to slouch, no matter how great the pain, it was still no excuse for looking shoddy. He knew Vlad's words were deliberately provocative but he didn't rush to defend himself. No, this time he would not babble, he would not lose control. He would be calm, rational, he would argue his case knowing that if he lost then at least he hadn't shamed himself. There was no great urgency to speak, Bertrand knew this from Vlad's pretence of disinterest, the Chosen One would give him time to find the right words, he would feel an obligation to give Bertrand a 'fair trial' before indulging in whatever action he saw necessary. Bertrand took these few precious moments to study the Dracula boy intensely. He drank in every detail of Vladimir Dracula, all the developments, the nuances, the changes that he may have missed during his exile. Vlad was his calling, his only purpose in unlife and it had been torture beyond words to have been separated from him.

"I can't undo what I did." Bertrand watched as conflicting emotions flickered across Vlad's face at his opening words. "I disagreed with your decision to enter into a peace treaty with the slayers. I sought to change your policies with actions when my words could not sway you. I betrayed your trust because I believed I knew better than you.

You're still so very young, and I know," Bertrand automatically held up a hand to silence any words of protest forthcoming from his protégée, "you are sick of hearing that." Vlad did nothing more than merely blink before casting his eyes over to the bookcase in a clear attempt to avoid eye contact. "I cannot apologise enough for my actions."

His protégée was struggling to hold back a sneer. "What do you want?" His words were crisp and neutral, he may have as well have been speaking to a perfect stranger.

"I want to serve you." Bertrand watched as Vlad's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I have spent four centuries preparing to serve you. It is my entire existence."

Vlad gave him a cynical laugh. "You have an interesting way of demonstrating your loyalty." Leaked emotion caused his voice to deepen unnaturally on the last word.

He had hurt the Dracula boy. More so than merely wounding his pride. He should have guessed that Vlad would have taken the assassination of his sister personally. It was just that Bertrand had never planned to be in the frame. He would have been picking up the pieces, he would have done whatever it took to comfort the grieving vampire, things had played out rather differently from his original plot. "I have been trying to make up for what I did." He kept his answer simple. If Vlad wanted more details he would press for them.

Vlad let out another sarcastic laugh. "By conspiring with the Blood Brotherhood to assassinate me?" There was a bitterness in the younger vampire's voice that Bertrand had never heard before, he wasn't entirely certain whether he liked it.

"I would never have let them assassinate you." Bertrand hadn't been planning to say those words and certainly not with that level of passion, however it seemed to have caught Vlad's attention. The Chosen One raised his eyebrows questioningly; an implicit command to explain further. "The Blood Brotherhood is – was- the most significant threat to your safety. I had the opportunity to work within it, to destroy it, to eradicate the dangers its members posed to you. I saw it as my penance."

"Hmm." Vlad unfolded his arms and leaned forward. "You and the Blood Brotherhood have much in common." It was the closest yet that Vlad had come to making an outright accusation.

Bertrand met and held Vlad's direct gaze. "Precisely," he replied calmly. "It was the perfect way to demonstrate that my beliefs are secondary to yours." The Blood Brotherhood had many conflicting ideologies, many different strands of radicalism but one of the common themes was opposition to the idea of vampires living in peace with breathers. At worst, it was an abomination, at best an inconvenience to proper dining etiquette.

Vlad frowned in consternation. "That doesn't mean your beliefs have changed. It doesn't mean that you have changed. Tell me Bertrand, do you honestly believe that breathers are more than food?"

Bertrand maintained a blank expression. "My beliefs are secondary to yours," he repeated his previous words in a slightly firmer tone. His words told Vlad everything and yet nothing. He could tell from the slight creasing of Vlad's forehead that the Chosen One was frustrated by his answer.

Vlad's forehead smoothed out and his carefully constructed mask of disdainful arrogance dropped neatly into place. The Chosen One stood up, his form more graceful than ever, "You say that you know me," his voice was cold and hard, "But I know you too Bertrand, you would have planned every detail of this revelation with military precision. That's how I know you timed this perfectly to coincide with my departure to Transylvania. You think, given the time constraints, that you can manipulate me into making a hasty decision." Vlad snapped his fingers and a UV cage formed around Bertrand's chair trapping his former tutor more effectively than any fang cuffs.

Bertrand remained seated, showing no trace of anger or fear at his predicament, "You need me Vlad." He noted with satisfaction the way Vlad's shoulders tensed at his words. He still had the ability to get under his protégée's skin; that was something he could exploit. "I know what you are doing in Oxford. You need a vampire historian and I'm the best." There was no element of boasting in his voice, he was simply being matter of fact and Vlad knew at least that statement was the truth.

Vlad's mouth twisted slightly but he said nothing as he began to climb the stairs upwards.

"The blonde," Bertrand didn't have to turn around to know that Vlad had frozen at his words, "we both know what I meant when I said that she shouldn't be able to hurt you." Vlad's silence confirmed Bertrand's suspicions. "I can help there too," he continued, his voice soft and quiet despite the increasing distance between them. "I can find out what she is."

* * *

Dmitri gave Scarlett a wary smile as she handed him a mug of warm soy blood. The blonde breather came to stand beside him, leaning against the kitchen cabinets, sipping a freshly brewed cup of tea. It was quite remarkable how much tea the two female breathers managed to consume. It certainly seemed to be their solution to every problematic situation that arose. The ruler of the vampires disappearing into a cellar alone with a rogue dangerous assassin? Put the kettle on. Search for tea bags. Put out plates of biscuits - preferably chocolate. Repeat as necessary until the crisis has passed.

Scarlett and Charlie... they were so very human and yet relatively unfazed by the vampires surrounding them. Yuliya would have approved, his wife had been a strong woman, the sort of woman that rolled up her sleeves in the middle of a crisis and eyeballed it back. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face at the memory of how his wife's dark eyes used to flash with temper...

"Thank you for last night." Scarlett's words caused Dmitri to glance at her in curiosity. "If it hadn't been for you catching me, I would probably be seriously hurt."

Dmitri nodded gruffly in agreement. He didn't approve of her recent behaviour, in his opinion she shouldn't have intervened, the Grand High Vampire had the right to punish Bertrand du Fortunesa as he saw fit. He glanced down to find the girl smiling up sweetly at him, "I was only doing my job," he replied sternly.

"I know." She patted his arm all together too fondly given their respective statuses as vampire and breather, "But thank you anyway."

The merest hint of a breeze upon his face alerted Dmitri to his master's arrival. The Chosen One stood in the doorway, capeless, arms folded defensively across his chest, a foreboding frown upon his face, "Ingrid, Robin, I need to speak to you." He gave Scarlett a black scowl as the blonde breather stepped forward. "Not you Scarlett. You're too emotionally involved."

Scarlett glowered at him. "And Ingrid isn't?" she demanded accusingly.

Ingrid gave her the sort of glare that made Dmitri grateful looks couldn't kill because, right now, he would undoubtedly be caught in the crossfire. "The difference is that my opinion matters," she jeered before elegantly sweeping out of the kitchen. Robin and Dmitri were careful to evade eye contact with Scarlett as they followed in her wake.

* * *

Vlad's fingers tapped impatiently against the desk. "Even if I hypnotise him, there's no guarantee that he's telling me the truth."

Ingrid shrugged dismissively. "What does it matter?" She met Vlad's eyes with a cold hard stare. "You're going to stake him, aren't you?"

Guilt flashed over Vlad's face as he broke away from his sister's penetrating gaze. "It's complicated."

Thunder rumbled overhead as Ingrid's fangs lowered. "I swear to Lucifer, if you don't stake him," she hissed threateningly.

Vlad sniggered with sudden amusement. "What?" he challenged her. "Go on Ingrid; tell me exactly what you would do." He continued to smirk arrogantly at her but there was a glint of something cold and deadly in his eyes.

Ingrid snarled with frustration, knowing that if she pushed him any further, she couldn't be certain of a favourable outcome. Pressing her lips firmly together in a furious pout, she struggled to control her temper. "I'll never forgive you," she muttered bitterly as she slouched back in her chair. Her eyes cast downwards failed to catch the hurt look on her brother's face.

Vlad took a ragged breath as he ran his hand through his hair. "Look, right now, the most important thing is to make sure he's adequately contained when I'm away in Transylvania. On my return I can...re-examine him."

Robin barely managed to stop himself from flinching at the malice with which Vlad emphasised that one verb. "If Bertrand is as powerful as you say then a UV cage might not be enough."

"No, I doubt it will be enough." Vlad slammed his hand down on the table, his calm facade cracking under the pressure. "Why does everything have to be so damn complicated? The timing couldn't be worse and Bertrand bloody knew that. I need to be in Transylvania tonight. Dad's already dropping hints about a visit. No Robin," Vlad caught the excited grin creeping across his friend's face, "That's not cool. Or awesome. It's going to be difficult enough to persuade him to change Dmitri's blood oath without raising his suspicions let alone cancelling -"

"That's it!" Robin interpreted suddenly, "A blood oath! If you enter into a blood oath with Bertrand then he has to obey you. He has to answer your questions truthfully and you can order him not to hurt anyone." Robin's delight at his own genius was obvious but even so Vlad had to admit that the idea had merit.

"It could work," Vlad began cautiously.

"Your Highness!"

They all turned to look at Dmitri in surprise. Vlad's stalwart protector very rarely intruded in any of their conversations let alone one of this magnitude. Vlad declined his head slightly as a sign for Dmitri to continue speaking. "Your Highness," Dmitri started again, it was clear that he was trying with great difficulty to keep the anger out of his voice. "To enter into a blood oath with any Grand High Vampire, let alone the Chosen One, is an honour. A tremendous honour. It should not be bestowed on those who have betrayed you. It is an insult to all of those vampires who have trained hard to gain the privilege." Dmitri fell silent again, seemingly unsettled by the forcefulness of his speech.

Ingrid's laugh was scathing. "Well, that's my brother for you. Betray him, assassinate his sister, break the peace treaty and you get rewarded!" There was a slightly hysterical note in her voice as she continued. "It's like none of it matters. Like I - " Ingrid bit her lip, her eyes glittering with suspicious wetness as she fell silent again.

Robin reached over and placed his hand over hers. He wasn't that surprised when she pulled away abruptly, hissing through her fangs in warning.

A slow evil smile crept across Vlad's mouth. "Oh I don't think it will be an honour."

* * *

Scarlett shifted impatiently from one foot to another. "Are you decent yet?"

"No. Never."

Scarlett had to suppress a giggle at the vampire's snarky tone. "OK, are you clothed yet?" she replied with exaggerated patience.

"Perfectly." He wasn't even bothering to hide his scorn at her shyness.

Scarlett turned around slowly, still half suspicious, although she wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps there was some part of her that recognised the dangerous nature of the man in the strange cage of flickering light. And yet, Bertrand had looked so forlorn, so vulnerable when she approached him that it was difficult to believe he was the monster that Vlad had made him out to be.

Bertrand was indeed perfect. The borrowed clothes fitted perfectly to his muscled frame, the dark length of his hair brushed into tidiness, he had even folded up his old clothes in a neat pile. His brilliantly blue eyes were watching her with an intensity that made her shiver slightly. He raised a glass of soy blood to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. Scarlett really wished that he wouldn't stare like that; she could feel the pinkness creeping into her cheeks. "How's the blood?" she asked more out of a desire to break the silence stretching between them than anything else.

Bertrand's lips twitched. "Bland." He deliberately let his eyes flicker over her exposed neck. "You could always make a donation if you're that concerned."

Without even realising it Scarlett lifted a protective hand to her throat. "Oh behave," she scolded him even as she forced her hand to drop down to her waist again.

Settling herself down on the floor, she tucked the skirts of her jade green dress beneath her causing Bertrand to wince slightly. He tossed his cape out of the UV cage. "Are you aware that's real silk?"

Hesitantly, Scarlett took the cape and spread it on the dusty floor. "I think my dress is the least of your worries." Her heart clenched with pain as she recalled the cruelty in Vlad's eyes. Looking up at this stranger, Scarlett felt a wave of protectiveness wash over her. He had literally nobody else willing to fight for him, he was completely at Vlad's mercy and whatever he had done in the past, he didn't deserve to be tortured, especially not when he had surrendered willingly and repeatedly.

Bertrand gave her a strangely calm smile. "I am Vlad's, to do with, whatever he wishes."

Scarlett stared at him in disbelief. "Surely you don't mean that?" she asked falteringly. The way he spoke was so final, so resigned that it scared her. Nobody should have this much power over another person, it was just ..._wrong_.

"Oh but I do." Bertrand's voice was unnervingly composed. "Don't you see? You're the same. Whatever else you may be, you are his. I am his. We all belong to Vladimir Dracula." He glanced up at the ceiling. "They are coming for me now."

Scarlett moved forward, her hand darting through the UV bars to grab his, he started slightly at the unexpected warmth, his eyes flashing black, "No, I won't let him hurt you," she vowed with a ferocity that clearly surprised the imprisoned vampire.

The black faded away from his vivid blue eyes. "You can't stop him."

**Chapter 45 teaser**

'_He would do what was necessary, after all wasn't that exactly what Bertrand had taught him?'_


	47. Chapter 45

_**Thank you very much to everyone who is continuing to read and review! Just a warning that this chapter contains some violence – my sincerest, deepest apologies to Bertrand fans... seriously I am sorry... **_

_**I forgot to say this on the previous chapter but do check out Mai Ascot's latest fics 'Magda' and 'Eat Properly' – fabulous work by a lovely author!**_

_**I hope this lives up to expectations! **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 45**

Hearing the footsteps approach the study, Vlad quickly took one more deep calming breath before forcing his hands off the smooth polished surface of the desk and standing upright. He couldn't afford to let anyone witness this moment of weakness. He could do this, he wanted to do this, in fact that's what worried him most of all. Every time he thought of Bertrand's betrayal, it was a heated blade slicing through his heart, it was as if a red mist of rage surrounded him, making him blind to everything else but how much he wanted vengeance for what Bertrand had done to the Draculas. Especially for what he had done to Ingrid who thought that Vlad didn't even care. But then how was Ingrid supposed to know he was haunted by the echoes of her scream and the images of her disintegrating flesh? He loved his family, he would do whatever it took to keep them safe and Bertrand, knowing this, had tried to exploit it.

Ensuring that his face was an inscrutable mask, Vlad waited for the others to enter the study. Dmitri and Robin each held Bertrand's shoulders, Ryan followed in their wake, his eyes glimmering with savage rage, a stake openly displayed in his hand. The half fang was a liability, Vlad knew that if Ingrid gave the order, Ryan wouldn't hesitate to stake Bertrand regardless of the consequences for his own unlife. The three girls were last: Ingrid, barely able to conceal her mounting anger, was reluctant to observe the supposed 'honour' that he was going to bestow on Bertrand, Charlie, still pale faced from the strains of the fight which seemed like centuries ago and yet had only happened in the last twelve hours and Scarlett... Grey smudges under her eyes indicated her exhaustion, the dust still clinging to her silk dress revealed that she had been down in the cellar, her eyes were focused on his former tutor and Vlad felt a once familiar stab of jealousy pierce his heart. How could she look at Bertrand like that? Like he was worth something? Like he hadn't tried to destroy everything Vlad had held dear. The entire tableaux strengthened his resolve. He would do what was necessary, after all wasn't that exactly what Bertrand had taught him?

Dmitri forced Bertrand down onto his knees, his former tutor offered up minimal resistance, sinking gracefully into a kneeling position, his head bowed in a supposed sign of contrition. Vlad noticed that Robin barely placed any pressure on Bertrand's shoulder at all, his dark eyes were full of conflict, his loyalty to the Draculas warring with his very Branagh-like notions of decency. For all his love of the gothic and gruesome, at heart Robin didn't like hurting people.

"Your Highness." Bertrand whispered Vlad's official title, raising his head just slightly to meet Vlad's eyes. The reverence contained within those brilliantly blue eyes almost caught Vlad off guard. He couldn't understand why Bertrand would look at him like that especially knowing that Vlad was almost certainly going to inflict some form of terrible punishment on him.

"If you want back into my service then there are some conditions that you must meet first." Vlad kept his voice crisp, business-like, carefully controlling his emotions so that none of the anger or hurt slipped out in his voice or manner. He watched with satisfaction the glint of surprise that appeared in Bertrand's eyes, the almost hopeful look that passed over his former tutor's face. The prospect of crushing that fragile hope made the darkness inside him rejoice, it was an uncomfortable sensation to know that he was on the very brink of succumbing to all the evil inside. "I'm going to give you a choice. You may rejoin my service but I will require you to prove your allegiance to me by taking the blood oath. I need to know that my family and friends will be safe to work alongside you, that your only loyalty is to me. Or," Vlad let a cruel sneer spread across his face making it clear which option he preferred, "You return to Transylvania to face charges of Grand High Treason and the accompanying penalty - execution by dawn." Vlad picked up the parchment sitting on his desk and passed it to Robin who in turn handed it to Bertrand.

The sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hall seemed to fill the study as his former tutor slowly read and studied the contract before him. After a considerable length of time, Bertrand had always approached such tasks with thoroughness, his former tutor handed the parchment back to Robin, only the slightest creasing of his mouth revealed his immense distaste at being in such close proximity to a slayer. He met Vlad's eyes once again, "I have read and fully understand the contract. I acquiesce fully to all the terms contained within and I accept all conditions that you impose upon my return to your service."

Vlad raised a cynical eyebrow, "Including the blood oath?"

Bertrand nodded firmly. Unbuttoning his sleeve, he pushed the borrowed material up his left arm as a gesture of his willingness to be bitten and held under Vlad's thrall.

Vlad laughed suddenly, a dark evil cackle which sped up the heart rates of all the breathers in the room and made the vampires look at him with growing fear in their eyes. He strode towards Bertrand, every movement full of restrained power, dark energy seeping out of every gesture, every word. "Oh no no no." He knelt slightly so that he was at face level with his former tutor, his lips curling into a callous smile which displayed the frightening sharpness of his fangs, "I don't think so." He tsked gently as he reached out a pale hand to caress Bertrand's neck, delighting in how the older vampire struggled to stop himself from flinching at his touch; the tenderness of his fingers, as they stroked the length of Bertrand's golden skin, could not disguise the sheer malevolence behind the gesture "I want everyone to know that I have dominion over you." The softness of Vlad's voice only added to the sinister meaning behind his words. "That you knelt before me, that I am your master and that you can _never_ defy me." A malicious smirk twisted Vlad's mouth.

Bertrand's eyes widened with horror as he realised exactly what Vlad meant.

Around them, there were murmurs, shuffling of feet, half-spoken questions as everyone else took a few seconds to understand the implications of Vlad's words.

As the first to realise the terms that Vlad was offering Bertrand, Ingrid cackled wickedly with glee, her eyes lighting up with something close to happiness, "Oh Vlad!" She smiled with evil delight. "That is superb! Oh well done. I never knew you could be such a cruel, evil son of a bat."

"What?" Scarlett glanced around at the blanching faces of her friends. "What does she mean?" A frantic note entered her voice. "What exactly is a blood oath?"

Robin cleared his throat awkwardly. "A blood oath is a particular kind of contract under vampire law. Its formation requires the master to bite the subservient vampire. The bite is usually on the arm." Robin gave Vlad an anxious look before continuing to explain. "But Vlad is going to bite him on the neck." A look of nausea was creeping across Robin's pale features.

Ingrid turned to Scarlett, a smug smile settling on her glossy lips. "Being bitten on the neck is very worst thing that can happen to a vampire. It's complete and total humiliation." She directed her next words to the vampire kneeling before them all. "And he will be marked for as long as the blood oath exists. Everyone will know what happened to him."

Scarlett grabbed onto Charlie's arm, disgust and horror overwhelming her, her eyes once more shining with unshed tears. "You can't." Her words were barely a whisper but there was no mistaking the revulsion held within them.

Vlad and Bertrand stared at one another; Vlad knew the steely hardness in his eyes testified more vehemently than any words to his determination to make Bertrand suffer in the worst possible way for a vampire. For once, Bertrand was having difficulty in containing his emotions enabling Vlad to observe the storm of conflicting thoughts and feelings in his usually guarded eyes. With a vicious sneer, Vlad straightened up and moved to turn his back on Bertrand. "Death by dawn it is."

"No." Bertrand tugged at the collar of his shirt, lifting his head proudly in invitation as he exposed the vulnerability of his throat to Vlad's fangs. "I submit." His voice was strong and firm despite its quietness. There was a strange dignity to his demeanour as he offered himself up to Vlad. It was only the tiniest tremor in his fingers, as they pulled the cloth away from his skin, which exposed his justified terror at what Vlad was going to do next.

It took considerable effort for Vlad to show no outward sign of the almost overwhelming surge of darkness that coursed through his veins at Bertrand's submission, at how easily he had defeated his enemy, of how intensely gratifying it was to destroy someone you hated beyond reason. No wonder he usually fought so hard against his more violent instincts, the potential pleasure they offered was just too much to resist. Under the pretence of scrutinising his former tutor, Vlad took a couple of seconds to compose himself before speaking. "Robin, the silver knife, it's on that book case."

There was good reason for issuing the command to his best friend. Dmitri was frozen to the spot, his eyes black with something akin to horrified fear as he stared downwards at the prisoner. Even amongst vampires, what Vlad was about to do was unspeakably evil.

There was a hint of nervousness to Ingrid's cackle as Vlad discarded his leather jacket and tore the sleeve of his shirt to expose the whiteness of his arm. "Vlad, you're not..." She took a moment to lick her lips, her throat drying up with panic at the dangerous game her younger brother was playing, "Vlad, you're... not _actually_ going to do it?" Her jaw dropped slightly as Robin placed the silver blade in Vlad's hand. "OK, that's enough Vlad! Seriously! You're just going to stake him now, Aren't you? Aren't you Vlad? Because that" she waved her arm at Bertrand's current pose, on his knees, neck exposed, "is humiliation enough. You've made your point perfectly clear." The shrillness of her usually husky voice betrayed her increasing horror as Vlad's actions made it clear that he had every intention of carrying out the blood oath.

Vlad skimmed the blade across the perfection of his pale skin. "He hurt you Ingrid. Nobody hurts my family." Vlad's voice and manner were chillingly calm.

Ingrid's head snapped back and forth between her younger brother and her former lover. Vlad's issuing of the false choices, watching Bertrand squirm, witnessing his humbled state had all been perfectly delicious but she balked at the unadulterated evil of Vlad's punishment. This was too far even for her. "Then stake him. Sentence him to death by dawn. Torture him if you must but this..." Ingrid was so pale she looked faint, "This is too much. There are limits!"

"Limits?" Vlad gave her an evil smirk even as he pressed the sharp blade into his flesh, "Limits are for breathers." Tossing her own words back in Ingrid's face, Vlad deepened the cut so that unnaturally dark blood began to flow down his arm. He moved determinedly towards Bertrand, fangs gleaming at the corners of his mouth, pure hatred etched on to his handsome face.

Almost retching, Ingrid turned on her heels, "I can't watch this!" She fled the study, barely bothering to slam the door behind her, such was her haste to get away. Charlie and Ryan exchanged mutual looks of concern before following suit.

Unfazed by their departures, Vlad held Bertrand's gaze, vivid shades of blue meeting each other with a mixture of loathing and loyalty. Bertrand swallowed hard, an almost insignificant flicker of movement, which betrayed the intensity of his terror. They both knew that Vlad was going to be brutally violent, that he would inflict as much pain as possible upon Bertrand, as further punishment for his past deeds. Without any further warning, Vlad swooped downwards, his fangs ripping apart Bertrand's previously unblemished skin, revelling in the agonising pain that Bertrand was experiencing, in how extraordinarily pleasurable it was to use his fangs for what they were intended... Swiftly, he pulled back before the sensations could overpower him, when he could still resist the temptation to simply rip Bertrand's throat apart. Bertrand's blood, a darker shade of red than a breather's, dripped from his fangs and coated his lips, it repulsed Vlad to feel the liquid smearing across his tongue and lips but he endured the discomfort and the belated awakening of his conscience. He refused to show any signs of contrition or remorse as Bertrand continued to kneel before him, the bite wound on his neck bleeding profusely. He was dimly aware of Scarlett's quiet sobs in the background as he held out his bloodied arm to Bertrand. "Drink," he commanded harshly.

**Chapter 46 teaser**

'_You seem to forget Scarlett, I am the Grand High Vampire.'_


	48. Chapter 46

_**Hello and thank you to the new people now following this fic! Thank you so much for the positive reviews on the last chapter – it was an incredibly tough one to write. If you fancy a more bloodthirsty sequel than this chapter check out HyaHya's spin off fic 'Breaking Barriers' – I loved it!**_

_**Bit angsty this one but I hope you enjoy it! **_

_**xo**_

_***Hides***_

**Chapter 46**

Even though her vision was clouded by tears, Scarlett found herself unable to even pretend that she was witnessing the blood oath between Vlad and Bertrand. Hating herself for being so cowardly, she pressed her face against the soft black wool of Robin's jumper, squeezing his hand tightly with hers, incapable of even choking out an apology for the hot wet tears dampening his shoulder. Robin, for his part, appeared to be squeezing her hand equally hard back, his stronger fingers around hers. It was only when he tugged free of her grasp that Scarlett even realised it was all over.

The older vampire continued to kneel silently on the floor which was now splattered with botches of blood. With his eyes blazing black and dark blood dripping down his face, Vlad snarled orders at Robin and Dmitri. This menacing figure of blood and violence was a total stranger to her, barely recognisable as the teenage boy that she had been falling in love with. He cast a contemptuous look over his shoulder at her, his handsome features twisted into hard lines of something close to hatred and involuntarily she took a step backwards, half expecting him to snap at her for crying. He turned away from her abruptly, all it took was a flash of blurred movement and he was gone from the study leaving the others to clean up his mess.

Bertrand was hoisted back onto his feet by Dmitri and Robin, the vampire and the slayer working together to steady the prisoner on his feet. Dmitri's face was as inscrutable as always even as he took the bulk of Bertrand's weight. Robin's face had always been expressive and now as he slid an arm around Bertrand's waist there was no mistaking the troubled mixture of awe and horror in his eyes. Perhaps, repressed memories of his time in Stokely were rising once more to the surface. His lips twitched in a ghost of a smile at her but it was clear even that flicker of movement was a struggle.

As the trio departed the study Scarlett felt an almost overwhelming urge to rush after them, to beg Bertrand's forgiveness for letting him down, for letting Vlad do whatever he had just done. Even though he had consented, she should have done something. Was his consent even valid given the stranglehold of power that Vlad held over him? She should have stepped in again; she should have stopped Vlad somehow. Her cheeks burned with the shame of standing by and watching. Poor Bertrand! After everything he had said and done for Vlad. After surrendering, after refusing to hurt her or any of the others even though he was apparently a monster? How could Vlad do that? Fangs slicing through flesh, threats to rip people's hearts out, more and more lies, that soulless look in his eyes... Incoherent thoughts and images flashed around and around her mind only serving to make her feel even more dizzy and faint.

Pressing her hands against her flaming cheeks, Scarlett became aware that the rich scent of vampire blood was wafting around her. It smelt completely different to anything she had ever encountered. The salt and rust undertones so prevalent in human blood were not present, instead there was something else, something she couldn't quite recall... something vaguely familiar...

The realisation that she was breathing in the scent of Bertrand and Vlad's blood made her stomach recoil with revulsion. Retching violently, she ran out of the study and into the reception hall. Flinging the front door open, she made it into the outdoor garden before the convulsions overcame her. Hands pressed against the smooth, yellow brick work of the house, gravel crunching beneath her feet, Scarlett wrapped her arms tightly around her waist as her body tried to purge the contents of her empty stomach. Collapsing against the wall, Scarlett closed her eyes and lifted her face to the cool autumn breeze feeling thankful that she had at least managed to get out of the house.

Taking shaky breaths, she leant against the reassuringly solid wall. It felt like the only real and substantial part of this nightmare that she was trapped in. As the nausea and dizziness subsided, she opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the increasing brightness. Still gulping in the fresh air, she watched as small beams of sunlight began to filter through the thinning mist, she reached out a hand as if she could touch their warmth. Right now, they seemed more substantial than her so-called relationship with Vladimir Dracula.

* * *

Gripping the cold ceramic of the sink, Vlad stared into the empty mirror in front of him. The glass surface only reflected the modern bathroom behind him, the gleaming white and black tiles and sleekly fitted power shower. There was nothing in the square pane to indicate that a person was standing before it. That is, if he still counted as a person.

There were times when Vlad was truly thankful that he didn't have to look at himself in the mirror. Times when he knew he wouldn't want to recognise the creature staring back at him. There were also times when he knew that he didn't have to see his reflection to understand how much of a monster he was. The redness of the blood swirling around the plughole of the shower was a more than adequate reminder of that.

Now that he was alone, he no longer needed to maintain his facade of ruthless cruelty and it was difficult to keep the tears from slipping down his face. He hated himself for what he had just done to Bertrand. It sickened him to the core that he was capable of such malice and viciousness and, worse still, that a part of him relished every second of pain and violence inflicted on his former tutor. He fought so hard to retain control over his darker impulses and on this occasion he hadn't even wanted to fight. He had wanted to tear Bertrand's throat apart. That display of violent power in the study, shockingly evil by vampire standards, was nothing compared to what he had wanted to do.

And now Bertrand was tied to him for eternity. After imposing his will on the older vampire in such a grievous manner, Vlad knew that he could never release him from the blood oath. He had effectively ensured that they were bound together until one of them was dust, an unlikely scenario given Vlad's current invulnerability and Bertrand's protected status under the blood oath.

The words of his younger self often came back to haunt him at times like this. _'I don't enjoy being evil. It makes me feel dead inside.' _How he longed to be that person again. It was so much more complicated than his thirteen year old self had imagined. A part of him _did _enjoy being evil – very much so but that sensation of twisted pleasure was all too fleeting. It dissipated rapidly and all he was left with was emptiness, guilt and self-loathing. It felt like every bloodthirsty deed, every selfish act took away another piece of who he used to be, of who he wanted to be.

Moving slowly, Vlad pulled on his clothes, a grey hoodie worn down into comforting softness and faded tracksuit bottoms. All he wanted to do now was collapse into his coffin, close the lid and sleep for the next couple of centuries.

* * *

"He didn't use to be like this." Ingrid wasn't sure if she had actually said the words out loud but in any case it hardly mattered. After all who ever actually bothered to listen to her? Images from her childhood drifted across her eyes. Vlad, all wide eyed and scared at the sound of their parents fighting, a toy monkey hanging from his arms. That ridiculous Boy Scout uniform and his enthusing about lighting a fire the 'breather' way. How he had looked at her on that dark road, so beseeching, his voice almost shaking with emotion as he begged her to come home. Her younger brother as he had been before the arrival of that wretched Bertrand du Fortunesa, before he had merged properly with his evil reflection, before he had stopped being Vlad...

The warmth of Charlie's hand on hers startled Ingrid out of her cocoon of memories. As her lips curled back, exposing her dangerous fangs, Ingrid hissed warningly at the medium. It appeared that the slender girl was made of considerably sterner stuff than Ingrid had anticipated. The medium continued to hold her hand; her clear green eyes were full of kindness as she gazed up at the older girl. Staring down at the duskiness of Charlie's hand against hers, the perfectly applied, bright blue nail polish, Ingrid felt bile rise in her throat.

She wanted what Charlie had. Robin. She wanted to sink her fangs into the slayer's neck, not just to drink his blood, which no doubt was delicious but also to make him hers, to make him look at her in that lovesick puppy-dog way that he used to look when they were in Stokely. By all rights, Robin should be hers anyway. She was the Princess of Darkness, the as yet uncrowned Queen of Vampires, the Countess Dracula and yet it was this pathetic excuse for a supernatural creature that held Robin's attention. Yes, she should hate Charlie but the girl made it rather difficult sometimes.

* * *

Sister Mary had always told Scarlett that her hot temper would be her downfall. That, amongst the several other faults, she had constantly reminded her ward about. But Scarlett knew that she definitely had a problem with her temper. Sometimes, it felt like she was incapable of containing all the emotion and anger inside like normal people seemed to do. Even now as an adult, she found it extremely difficult to bite her tongue and stay silent in the face of provocation. And nothing provoked her temper more fiercely than bullies. She hated people who preyed on those weaker than themselves with a passion that bordered on zealous. It had gotten her into more awkward situations and fights than she cared to remember. There was, after all, a very good reason for why she knew how to throw a punch at someone bigger than herself.

She had tried her best to calm down, honestly, she had really tried but nothing seemed to work. As the images of the past twelve hours flickered through her mind at an increasingly frantic speed, her chest only became tighter and heavier with emotion, the anger converting slowly and steadily into rage. Pacing up and down the garden in the pale sunlight and fresh air only served to enhance the vividness of the images in her mind. Taking deep breaths and counting to ten only focused her mind on the cruelty of Vlad's actions even within the moral code of the vampire world.

Standing in the empty kitchen, staring out at the landscaped loveliness of the garden, Scarlett felt like she was going to explode unless she had it out with Vlad. Her hands were shaking as she set the mug down on the spotless surface of the kitchen counter. Without paying heed to the voices of caution in her head, she pushed away from the counter and marched off to find Vlad.

* * *

Dmitri neatly sidestepped away from the study door before Scarlett slammed it open. Sorting through the papers on his desk, Vlad looked up instantly, the scowl fading away from his features. For one brief moment, between her first step into the room and the words that came tumbling from her mouth, Vlad felt the stirrings of hope in his heart, hope that maybe she had come to comfort him, that he could throw himself into her arms and she would magically hug everything away. Even before her angry voice rang out, he chided himself for being so foolish and child-like.

"What the hell was_ that_ about?"

From this introduction, it was painfully clear that she was still taking Bertrand's side. With a tiny tilt of his head, Vlad indicated that Dmitri should leave. His bodyguard was as discreet as ever, melting quietly from the room, closing the door silently behind him. Vlad guessed that this was going to be the sort of conversation that required privacy.

"Well?" Scarlett's hands were on her hips, her foot tapping impatiently on the carpet.

Barely restraining his own temper, Vlad continued to sort through the papers. He could only hope she would see his behaviour as unfazed, that she wouldn't notice how he was fighting to keep his eyes from turning red. He counted several frantic beats of her heart before he spoke. "It was a display of power." He glanced up from his papers at her, "You seem to forget Scarlett, I am the Grand High Vampire." He hadn't meant it to sound menacing but from the way Scarlett's eyes widened he guessed that it had come out wrong. "I just mean that sometimes my position requires me to do things that aren't particularly pleasant."

Scarlett's laugh was harsher than anything he had ever heard from her. "Pleasant?" She began walking across the room. He watched intently as she paced over to the far side of the study, hating himself for admiring how the green silk clung to her curves, hating the way she was making his blood boil in two distinctly different ways. "Pleasant?" Scarlett repeated the word sarcastically. "You ..." She took a deep breath, clearly struggling to articulate what was making her so furious with him. "You can't ..."

Vlad stood up then, moving around the desk to face the accusing glare of her eyes. "I can. I did," he stated the words quietly but firmly. He leaned back against the desk watching her in a way that he knew would unnerve her. He had practised this technique countless times with his Council members and it never failed even on the most robust of vampires.

"How can you be so calm?" she demanded, the volume of her voice reaching almost shouting level. "How can you do that to another person? And now you just stand there and act like it's nothing?" She gestured wildly at his demeanour, her tone becoming increasingly exasperated. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

The disgust in that one word caused something to snap inside Vlad. "I'm a vampire!" he snarled, fangs descending immediately, his eyes blackening, a roll of thunder accompanying his words. ""Cruelty and bloodshed is what we do." He stalked towards her, knowing that he must be a terrifying sight and yet unable to stop himself. "You want to know me Scarlett, actually know me?" He held up his hands, a sneer spreading across his face, "This is me. A vampire. The stuff of nightmares. A violent, vicious monster with the power to do anything or anyone I want." He stopped a few feet away from her; the sight of the glittering tears flowing down her cheeks caused a pinprick of remorse to pierce through his bad temper. He half turned away from her, already regretting his loss of control.

Scarlett's breathing, heavy and harsh filled the room, yet her voice didn't waver when she finally managed to speak. "If that's what a vampire is, if that's all you are then..." Vlad turned sharply to stare at her, she took a step towards him, a look of resolute defiance on her face as she pushed her hair away from her neck, "Bite me."

Vlad just stared at her in shock. Curse Robin! 'Bite me' was the worst profanity that one vampire could say to another. It contained all sorts of insinuations about the balance of power, the most obvious being that the insulted vampire was incapable of doing the biting. Vlad, himself, had only said it a handful of times, mostly to his Dad. Even now, years later, he could still remember the look of disappointed hurt on Dad's face the first time he had snapped it at him. And now Scarlett was saying to him! It was so offensive that he wasn't sure whether to find it funny or obscene. He moved forward at an inhumanly fast speed prompting a startled gasp to escape from Scarlett's lips as they came face to face. Even as he leant towards her, his fangs gleaming in the reduced light, she took a step backwards. "Don't tempt me," he hissed softly. This time he really did mean to sound threatening.

Her eyes only seemed to blaze brighter with anger as she moved further away. "Don't you dare," she began in heated response, jerking back as Vlad smirked and laid a solitary finger upon her lips to supposedly listen her.

Vlad couldn't resist widening his smirk to display the sharpness of his fangs. He watched in fascination as the pupils of her eyes widened. Blood and garlic, she did look sexy when she was annoyed. Why hadn't he tried winding her up before? "Or what?" He grinned wolfishly, letting his gaze trail with deliberate slowness over her lips, strangely vulnerable and tempting without their usual coating of red, down the perfection of her throat before finishing at the deep V of her cleavage. Surely, she realised how low cut her dress was, how incredibly tempting her soft white skin was against the brightness of the green silk.

Her fingers grasped his chin with surprising strength, the unexpected heat and pressure making him want to snarl with angry arousal. He let her lift his face to hers, enjoying the way he was making her almost breathless with outrage.

She pushed him away as she let go of his jaw. "I'll stake you," she replied fiercely, her cheeks flooding with pinkness.

A snigger of contempt escaped Vlad. "You can try." He pressed forward again, grinning when she realised that her back was quite literally against the wood panelling of the wall. His body was almost touching hers, the heat and scent of her already radiating through him, making him long for so much more.

Her eyes met his with blazing defiance. "Oh I will," she spat the words out. "I might even miss a couple of times on purpose." She cast a meaningful look downwards. Her gaze flickered upwards again, meeting his eyes in startled alarm, as he pressed his lower body against hers in reply.

Vlad smirked with pleasure as she blushed an even deeper shade of pink. "Oh," he whispered softly, his fingers tracing lightly down the column of her neck and across her collar bone, "vicious." His other hand slid around her waist, pulling her up tightly against him so that she could be in no doubt as to his intentions. His lips hovered over hers, "I quite like it." When they were this close, when he could feel her heart pounding against his chest, it felt like the blood was gushing through both their bodies and today her heart was beating faster than ever. Right now, he could actually see the merits of fighting and making up, no wonder his parents had done this so often, the tension only seemed to add an extra spark to proceedings.

"Vlad," the sound of his name on her lips, the desperation in her voice was what tipped him over the edge and without hesitation he claimed her lips with his, his tongue passionately plundering her mouth, hips grinding against hers, rejoicing in finally getting the comfort that he needed so badly from his girlfriend. Her taste, her warmth, the softness of her body against his was more intoxicating than ever, the wildness of his relief temporarily blinding him to the truth of their situation.

It was with horror that he suddenly realised that she wasn't reciprocating, that her body was moving against his in a struggle to break free, that her hands were pushing him away, that she was trying to pull her mouth away from his. He broke off the kiss immediately, stepping away so quickly that she almost fell against the wall without his arms to support her. "What's wrong?" It was meant to be a demand, he was meant to sound unruffled, disdainful even but he barely choked the words out.

* * *

Scarlett felt her heart clench with pain as she gazed at the vampire in front of her. The cold, blank faced creature of the past few hours was gone and now in his place was Vlad at his most vulnerable. His sapphire eyes huge and worried against the paleness of his face, an expression of frightened fragility settling on his finely carved features. But then she blinked and the memories began flitting across her mind once again; of Bertrand kneeling on the floor, of the darkness in Vlad's laugh, of the unusually dark blood dripping from Vlad's mouth... the very same mouth that had just kissed her.

Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, Scarlett shook her head as he moved towards her again, this time with gentle concern. "Don't." She forced herself to look away from him, unable to bear the way he looked so hurt at that single word.

Vlad exhaled a shaky and completely unnecessary breath before stepping forward once again and reaching his hand out as to touch her. "You don't mean that."

The semi-confident tone of his voice made Scarlett want to smack the bloody smugness out of him. "How dare you?" she hissed in a dangerous undertone. "How dare you presume to tell me what I want!" She gave him a violent shove in an effort to break free of the corner that he had just trapped her in. "You don't get to ever tell me what I want. Or force yourself on me." The words escaped her mouth before she truly realised what she was saying, dark memories from her past seeping into the current situation. It took her a couple of seconds to regain control, to force the memories away, to remember that, whatever had just happened in the past twelve hours, this was Vladimir, that he had pulled away, that he had stopped once he realised it wasn't what she wanted, that he had always stopped. "Vlad, I," she moved towards him, the sick feeling of guilt beginning to filter through her anger. "I'm sorry."

This time it was Vlad who backed away.

* * *

'_I'm sorry.' _As he stared at Scarlett, Vlad became aware of a once familiar ache in his chest, the emotional angst hitting his heart before he could even form the thought in his head. A creeping numbness began to travel slowly all over his body. He knew what those words meant. What they led to. No. No. _No_. He couldn't stand it, not her, not when she had understood, not when she had accepted him, even cared for him. Oh Lucifer, not her.

Taking another step back, Vlad swallowed hard, panic beginning to flood through him. He had been here before of course. With Erin. And what Scarlett had seen was so much worse. She hadn't seen just any vampire sticking his fangs in, she had seen _him. _He had been so determined to inflict humiliation and pain on Bertrand that he had been blind to everything else. She had seen him covered in blood, his fangs tearing into another vampire's throat. Of course, she wanted to end it. She was finally realising what a loathsome, evil creature he was. No, screw this, he would not let her hurt him, if she thought that she was going to dump him, she had another thing coming.

"I should have known it would never work with a breather." The words came out of his mouth, as cold and as sharp as any surgeon's blade. He barely recognised his own voice; it was so full of bitterness and hatred.

Confusion and hurt filled Scarlett's face. "Vlad," she began softly.

Her gentle admonishment only served to swell the tide of panic rising inside him. He spat the next few words out before she could continue. "Especially one like you." He raked his gaze up and down her body in a contemptuous manner. "Like I said, I can do anyone I want. Why should I settle for that? " He forced out a low, evil laugh and gestured vaguely at her, knowing that her lack of body confidence would twist his empty words into her deepest fears. A vicious streak of pleasure raced through him as her complexion whitened dramatically and as her eyes began to glisten once more with tears. He wanted to hurt her so badly, damage her in the way that she had just done to him. "Let's face it Scarlett, I was going to get bored of your Miss Little Innocent act sooner or later. And even if you had given me the goods," he smiled vindictively, "You wouldn't have been up to much. I prefer my partners to know what they are doing."

Her cheeks reddened, the blood pooling under the skin contrasting sharply with the rest of her pale skin. "You're a bastard," she whispered as tears spilt onto her cheeks.

Vlad fought the urge to sweep her into his arms, to gently wipe the tears away. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie in an attempt to prevent himself from reaching out to her. He sauntered towards her, arranging his face into a mask of polite disinterest. "Technically true since my mother and father didn't marry. Still, it won't stop me from inheriting the Dracula fortune so why should I care?"

She clenched her fists as he strolled past, "You know that's not what I meant."

Vlad laughed again, hoping that she wouldn't notice how his voice cracked slightly on the last note. "What makes you think I care what you mean?" He gave her a scornful look. "How did you think this was going to turn out _breather_? That I was going to fall in love with you?" He smirked cruelly. "That I would marry you? That I make you my Queen? I am a vampire, not a sparkly hero from your stupid romance novels. You are nothing to me." His voice was increasing in volume now, the pain and anger finally breaking through, "Less than nothing, you're not even food!" He grabbed the study door and forcefully yanked it open. "Get out."

Scarlett stood silently in the middle of the study, her chest heaving with the effort of holding back the tears, not bothering to wipe away those which had already slipped down her face leaving wet, salty trails behind. She was so beautiful that it made Vlad's heart ache all the more. He watched as she visibly pulled herself together, straightening up, forcing herself to breath slowly and steadily, walking towards the open door at a measured, dignified pace.

Vlad tried not to flinch when she paused at the door, tried not to look away as those gorgeous sapphire eyes met his, tried not to break down at her carefully selected words even though they were the equivalent of stake in his heart. "You really are a monster."

**Chapter 47 teaser**

'_There wasn't enough blood. There never could be enough blood.'_


	49. Chapter 47

_**Wow, first, thank you so much for all the amazing reviews on the last chapter. It's incredibly cool to receive such a response! I know I'm taking a risk with this plotline and that I might lose some readers but I hope some of you will stick with me. **_

_**Secondly, apologies for not updating on Tuesday. It's been a crazy week - genuinely crazy and next week might not be any better but if I don't update on Tuesday again I will definitely update on the Saturday. I'm also aware I've got a lot of fics to catch up with but keep writing guys, the more fics the better! Reviews will be on their way! : )**_

_**Thirdly, this chapter tries to deal with some emotive issues which may be upsetting to read about. I've done my best to research and write the subject matter in a sensitive manner. I'm not an expert but I would say to anyone who is experiencing or has experienced something similar to Scarlett's issues then do reach out for help. Much love to everyone out there. I've also got a companion one-shot for this chapter 'Responsibility' also going up today which explores the beginning of Charlie and Scarlett's friendship.**_

_**Fourthly, (yeah, I am totally going for the longest A/N ever), this is the last chapter before this fic gets rated up to 'M' so you have been warned!**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 47**

Downstairs in the dark warmth of the cellar, surrounded by flickering bars of lilac light, Bertrand lifted his head to the sound of raised voices. As a door slammed violently in the silent aftermath, he allowed himself a brief congratulatory smile. Well, that had been easy - almosttoo easy. His fingers remained cupped protectively over the bite wound on his neck. The skin was already healing, sealing Vlad's blood inside him, binding them together for what could be an eternity.

His work could finally begin.

* * *

There wasn't enough blood. There never could be enough blood. There was never enough damage. No cut was ever deep enough to stop her picking up the razor again and yet she hated the scars covering her body. They were a reminder that she wasn't like other people. She was a freak. An unnatural freak who didn't deserve to be loved, who deserved everything bad that she got but was too weak and pathetic to cope with it.

Scarlett wished she could explain why it was necessary to cut herself, why she was so full of self-loathing and hatred that she felt she deserved this. The words were always too difficult, the emotions choking her as her tongue tried to form the thoughts in her head. In the end, she would settle for turning her head away from the person in front of her whether they were a school teacher, social worker, doctor or even a friend.

Sometimes she felt angry and defensive. Why was it so wrong for her to do this? She wasn't hurting anyone but herself. What about the other ways in which people self-harmed? What about Jessie's drinking habit? The way her lawyer friend turned to a bottle of vodka for consolation wasn't exactly healthy. What about Charlie's secret passion for KFC? Her slender friend could pack away an entire family bucket when it came to a particular time of the month. Or the way Tamara used sport to vent her frustration at the pressure her family put her under? Why was her coping mechanism so wrong compared to theirs?

Tears trickled down her face, the salty fluid running across her cheeks and falling onto the soaked pillow. Staring blankly up at the ceiling, Scarlett let the sharp blade fall from her hand onto the floor below. She didn't blame Vlad for what he had said or done, it wasn't his fault. He was right. She _was_ less than nothing.

* * *

Despite deflecting blow after blow, Nancy could feel herself being edged backwards. The assassin was utterly ruthless in his determination to reach the intended target. Nothing seemed to hold him back for long, even her hardest and most vindictive kicks and punches failed against this perfect specimen of vampirism. Worse of all, he seemed to be positively gloating at her behind his impersonal demeanour.

She snarled fiercely as she felt the power of his mind probe none too gently at hers, that moment of desperately trying to maintain her telepathic barriers cost her dearly. A hand of cold steel encircled her wrist and suddenly she was being thrown to the ground as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll to be childishly disposed of. Temper flaring; Nancy grabbed the edge of the assassin's cloak, a thick, heavy mixture of leather and satin, in her left hand. Tugging violently, she brought the vampire down onto the floor with her, the shocked gasps and murmurs of those watching, barely registering. A soft hiss of pain escaped her lips as the vampire partially fell upon her, the weight of his body would have knocked all the breath out of her body if she had any. As the assassin fought to regain his balance, Nancy's fingers inched out across the dusty surface of the floor. Curling her fingertips around the smooth wooden surface of the stake, she raised her arm to strike a deadly blow to the assassin's heart.

Before she could even realise what was the hell was happening, she felt the sharp tip of a stake pressing against her heart. Gazing up into the cold, merciless eyes of the Grand High Vampire, she couldn't for the unlife of her figure out how he had managed to flip their positions.

The Grand High Vampire rose gracefully to his feet, his face impassive even as he reached out a polite hand to her. Begrudgingly, Nancy placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up. If it had been any other vampire, she would have told them to flap off. It was hard enough being a half fang let alone a woman in the vampire world. Her way of dealing with the all the jibes and jeers sent her way was to work twice as hard just to prove she was their equal. Perhaps he didn't realise it but Vladimir Dracula had just undone all her hard work by making her appear weak and feeble in front of her fellow recruits.

She gave the Grand High Vampire a curt nod of acknowledgement. As she stepped back into line with the other recruits, she couldn't resist peeking at him from beneath her eyelashes. He was so young that it was startling. He barely seemed old enough to vote let alone rule an entire race of bloodthirsty vampires. She felt old and foolish for just admiring the cut of his cheekbones and the plumpness of his lips. She had to be at least eighty years older than him given that she had been bitten during the Second World War.

He glanced at her as he spoke and it was a struggle not to duck her head and feign feminine modesty like she was some air headed vampette.

He looked away from her, his gaze returning to the tall, imposing vampire by his side. "Grade Zero," he said decisively before gliding onwards to the next group of recruits.

Standing in line, frozen to the spot, Nancy tried to quell the urge to breathe rapidly in and out with panic; it was a breather habit that she seemed unable to shake. Grade Zero? What did he mean Grade Zero? Everybody knew that there were only two grades! Grade Two referred to the lower guards, those who would accompany the Justices, perform general guarding and policing duties. Grade One referred to the small elite who would have the honour of protecting the Grand High Vampire. Not that this particular Grand High Vampire needed any protection against a stake... Did Grade Zero mean that she had just failed the most important test of her unlife? Nancy forced herself to stare straight ahead not daring to blink in case a treacherous tear would escape and expose her inner turmoil.

"Grade Zero," the recruit next to her whispered. "Grade fogging _Zero_!" Nancy resisted with difficulty the urge to punch the smug leech in the face. "You know what means," the recruit continued in an undertone, something close to awe entering his voice. "You're part of the elite. The super elite."

"What do you mean?" Nancy hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

The reply was as quick as it was unexpected. "Only the very best are assigned to protect the Dracula clan."

Nancy's eyes widened in surprise. Without even intending to, she found her head snapping back in the direction of Vladimir Dracula. What kind of Grand High Vampire put the protection of his family before his own?

* * *

To say that slaying was a hazardous occupation was very much an understatement. The majority of slayers died young, only a few ever reached retirement age. Thomas's father had been one of those lucky few. His old man had retired at sixty and now spent most of his days researching the genealogy of the family, pottering around his beautiful garden and whittling the occasional stake when his wife wasn't looking. Unlike most slayers, Thomas had been confident that he too would one day retire peacefully and hand the reins of the Oxfordshire division over to one of his twin daughters. It was common knowledge amongst the slayers that Oxford was unusually low in vampires even after accounting for the undead's dwindling numbers.

Given his current circumstances, Thomas was having serious doubts about reaching retirement age. Unforgiving steel was rubbing painfully against the delicate skin of his wrists, he anticipated his flesh would be red raw within hours unless the handcuffs were loosened. However, he knew his wrists were the least of his problems. Here he was, captured and tied up in his damn headquarters. The knowledge made him seethe with fury, the anger giving him something to hold onto as he tried to figure out how many hours or even days had just passed. Time had assumed a rather illusory quality, between the darkness and the chloroform; it was difficult to keep account of what exactly was happening to him. He supposed he should be grateful for the chloroform; that he was being knocked out rather than sitting in the darkness waiting for the telltale tread of his captors' footsteps, Dave's being so much heavier than Jonno's, but truthfully it was much more frightening. Every time one of them entered the cell with a damp handkerchief, a spasm of terror would pass through his body because he didn't know what he was going to wake up to.

* * *

The Grand High Vampire's new portrait was creating quite the stir, Ingrid noted sourly as she strode into the Council chambers. Despite being a few minutes late - Wolfie had wanted to show her his latest alchemy experiment - it was clear that she hadn't missed anything important. Council members were still milling around, a few of them still staring at the latest addition to the chamber walls. Ingrid had time to notice the Count's expression of absolute outrage before her eyes flitted upwards to the portrait which causing such a stir. Briefly, she wondered what Vlad had done this time to shock the Council. She wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her. A tiny gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she realised that the haughty, beautiful face staring out of the painting was her. Resplendent in her crown and glittering ballgown, holding the sceptre of skulls traditionally associated with the office of Grand High Vampire, Countess Ingrid Dracula gazed disdainfully down upon her subjects.

Ingrid had to quickly raise a hand to her mouth to stop herself from giggling. No wonder her father was fuming! Suppressing her smile of glee, after all showing such emotion would be undignified for the uncrowned Queen of Vampires, Ingrid turned around to face the rest of the Council. "What?" she asked them all with wide eyed innocence, she gestured upwards at the stunning portrait. "I think it's his best yet."

* * *

Crouching slightly, Robin set the bottles of soy blood just inside the circle of light which surrounded the prisoner. His hand darted between the flickering bars as quickly as possible yet he knew that if Bertrand had truly wanted to snap the bones in his wrist, he could have caught him effortlessly. The vampire was watching him solemnly, wordlessly as he conducted his caretaking duties. He felt rather than saw how Bertrand's gaze scanned his throat hungrily, he could sense the vampire's burning contempt for the stake clutched in his hand. Vlad's tutor was unlike any vampire Robin had ever met. There was a watchful stillness about the tutor, a quiet intensity that made Robin's heart pound much faster than any threatening hiss or snap of fangs.

Vlad had been going on for weeks about how dangerous this Bertrand du Fortunesa was and now as he tended to the recovering vampire, Robin was beginning to realise that Vlad hadn't been exaggerating; he had been holding back.

* * *

It had been clear for some time that the Grand High Vampire was not listening to Ramanga's speech. The youngest member of the Council seemed to be off in an entirely different world, his feather quill doodling aimlessly on the parchment before him, an expression of complete disinterest resting upon his features. Being full of his own self-importance, it had taken Ramanga longer than most to notice the disdain with which he was being treated. Finally, however, the vampire's patience snapped and he slammed his hand down upon the heavy oak table causing everyone, except Vlad, to start slightly.

"Is something the matter Your Highness?" The sarcasm in his voice was pushing at the boundaries of what was considered acceptable conduct in Council meetings.

The Grand High Vampire didn't even bother to raise his eyes from the parchment laid out before him. "I'm bored" he replied simply as the feather quill continued to scratch against the thick creamy surface of the paper.

There were a few titters of laughter at Vlad's answer; they faded rapidly as Ramanga glared around the table. "Do matters of state bore you then?" His tone was verging on uncivil, Ramanga knew that there was only so far he could push Dracula before the vampire child snapped but right now his famously hot temper was blinding him to this fact.

"No." Vlad set aside the feather quill and leant back on his throne with deliberate slowness. Pressing his fingers together in a temple, he regarded Ramanga with an icy stare. "_You_ bore me."

A shocked silence greeted his words; it was unprecedented for Vlad to be so openly rude and direct to one of his Council members. Normally, he played them off against each other with the sort of skill and cunning that left most of them wondering what the blood and garlic had just happened and why they had agreed with so little resistance to some crazy scheme thought up by a teenage boy with far too much power and influence.

Vlad tilted his head slightly to one side as he cast a scathing glance over his most violate Council member. "Sometimes I look at you and I wonder if I wouldn't be better off just slaying this entire stinking, miserable Council and starting off again with my own half fangs."

Ramanga glanced around at his fellow Council members; all raised eyebrows, panicked smiles and squirming discomfort at Vlad's threat. He couldn't count on them for support in this confrontation. Nonetheless, he squared his shoulders and gave the Grand High Vampire his most intimidating stare. "We would stake you." He could sense how the rest of the Council shrank away from him at these words – the snivelling cowards.

Vlad scoffed with apparent amusement. His eyes glittered with dark depths as he met Ramanga's faltering gaze. "You could try."

* * *

Charlie ran a loving hand over the golden hair of her best friend, trying to ignore the way her heart wrenched at Scarlett's unresponsiveness. Usually when she was upset, Scarlett would snap or flinch at being touched. Now, she lay curled up in a small ball beneath the duvet, her eyes swollen and glazed over, an occasional tear wandering down her raw, salt coated face. Charlie supposed that the best word to describe Scarlett's current condition was catatonic. It grieved her so much to watch her best friend suffer like this. Not for the first time, did Charlie curse Vladimir sodding Dracula's name. That damned vampire seemed determined to wreck everyone's life. Abandoning her poor Robin like that when they were kids, rocking up to Oxford without a care in the world, bringing all sorts of dangers into their lives – slayers and four hundred year old vampires for a start, breaking her best friend's heart and when he got his stupid, bloody source what would he do then? He would flit off back to whatever hellhole he came from, leaving her to pick up the pieces as Robin's heart shattered once again.

Charlie leant over and wrapped her arms around Scarlett's motionless form in an awkward hug. "You get twenty-four hours," she whispered. "OK, just twenty hours to cry over that bastard. And then it's going to get better. We are going to make it get better. I promise you this: I'm going to drag you out of this bed and I will make you have fun." Charlie tightened her arms around Scarlett in a comforting squeeze before sitting up again. "I'm always here for you." In a maternal gesture, she tucked the duvet more securely around her best friend. On her way out, Charlie picked up the half empty bottle of pills on her friend's desk, sneakily tucking them under her cardigan. Scarlett may have achieved so much in the past year in terms of confronting her personal demons but Charlie would prefer to remove all temptations. Unlike Vlad, she wasn't one for taking chances with her best friend's life.

* * *

Tracing her fingers softly over the delicate gold italics _R. Branagh_, Ingrid found herself closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. The scent of oil paint still lingered upon the canvas; it was a smell that had become oddly familiar to her, one which had often surrounded Branagh. If she sniffed more deeply, she almost imagine him standing here beside her, goofy grin on his face, eyes of such warmth despite their darkness... With a scowl, Ingrid regained control of her imagination. Whatever devils she had provoked in the past, this had to be absolutely the most disgusting thing that they could have retaliated with. A crush on a slayer was humiliation enough but a crush on Branagh? The geeky, annoying, little brat who used to follow her around with a sappy grin? Tearing her fingers away from his signature, Ingrid descended downwards, back onto the stone flooring of the Council chambers. With a determined set to her jaw, she shook out her cape and began stalking towards the door. The sooner, she tried to crush these revolting feelings, push these sickening thoughts out of her mind, the better. Shutting the chambers door firmly behind her, she hastened towards her own set of private chambers where a perfectly chilled bottle of Duke 1837 awaited her.

It was with surprise that she halted suddenly outside her brother's chambers, watching as he strode towards her, a posse of beautiful vampires following in his wake, all giggles, heaving bosoms and playful pouts. Her stomach recoiled in disgust. That anyone could find her brother remotely attractive had always bewildered Ingrid. But it was more than that. It was more than knowing her younger brother was getting off, it was knowing what lay behind it all. That it was all essentially a power struggle, that every vampiress who fluttered her eyelashes at Vlad was doing it for advancement, screwing their way into his favour, seeking privileges that others had to fight for. Ingrid was no stranger to using her charm and beauty for advancement, she still couldn't resist smirking to herself when she thought of how she double-crossed Ramanga. And that was where the differences began. Ingrid played men, she twisted their words and intentions, she lured them in and then left them with nothing whilst she gained everything. She did not submit, she did not resort to desperation, to begging, to demeaning herself like these fools.

She stood in the middle in the corridor, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest, a sneer playing upon her glossy lips. "Well, doesn't your heart mend quickly?" She cast critical eyes over Vlad's companions, her lips curling back even further from her fangs as she noticed Sarah Holmwood and Katerina Volkodlak in their midst, both of which she had aided and abetted in their quest for power and glory. To think that they would betray her like this, lower themselves to using sex to secure wealth and privilege rather than their intellect, infuriated her. For her part, Sarah at least had the shame to look away from Ingrid's accusing eyes. Katerina, on the other fang, smiled with mocking sweetness even as she ran a hand up Vlad's arm in a gesture purely intended to goad her former accomplice.

Vlad waved his hand, causing his chamber doors to swing open, he gestured at his companions, with exaggerated politeness, for them to enter before him. "Go ahead ladies. I need a word with my sister."

The vampiresses filed past one by one, Ingrid glared at each and every one of them, hating them all for betraying her cause of vampiress liberation. Both she and Vlad waited until his chamber doors were shut securely before speaking.

Vlad looked at her sharply, fangs grazing against his lower lip. "Have you got a problem Ingrid?" he asked heatedly.

"Damn right I do!" Ingrid exploded. "Don't you see what they are?" She gestured fiercely at the closed door. "They sleep with you for power and influence, none of them even like you let alone care about you. Do you really think you would be getting so much if you weren't the Chosen One? You're a flapping idiot if you can't see it! Or maybe, you're choosing to pretend it's not the truth." Ingrid felt a stab of fear hit her heart as Vlad's eyes darkened against the greying pallor of his face.

For a very long moment, Vlad merely studied her, his black eyes burning into hers, then he spoke quietly, maliciously. "What makes you so different from them?" He ignored her gasp of indignation and continued speaking. "You got your position purely because of me, because you're my sister." He shrugged nonchalantly, "You're still receiving power from a man rather than gaining it on your own merits. So I'm going to ask you again." Vlad stepped closer, his larger frame dominating hers, "What makes you so different from them?"

Ingrid was so vexed that she could barely get the words out. It was only when her brother's hand turned the door handle to his chambers that she managed to spit out her reply. "I may have gotten my position because I'm your sister but I work damn hard for it."

Vlad turned to her, a cruel smirk creeping across his lips. "What makes you think they don't?" With that final parting shot, he closed the door in her face.

**Chapter 48 teaser**

'_That's treason. Grand High Treason to be precise.'_


	50. Chapter 48

_**Apologies for the delay in posting, yet another week of craziness! So with Ryan's death, DiF is officially AU, how extraordinarily rude of the BBC! ; )**_

_**Warning: This fic is now up to an M rating because of sexual content. (Blame Vlad – the scoundrel!) It's up to you guys as the readers to use your discretion as to whether you want to continue reading but of course I hope you will.**_

_**Thank you as always for your reviews!**_

_**Hope everyone is having a fabulous weekend. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 48**

Wrapping his dressing gown loosely around him, Vlad hastily departed from his outer bedchamber, tossing a careless, "Help yourself," over his shoulder. Most of his lovers knew and understood the routine. There would be plenty of blood and food in the chamber, they could take a reasonable length of time to recover and attire themselves appropriately before leaving. If there was one thing Vlad had learnt relatively quickly, it was to dispense with the fake sentimentality of goodbyes. As far as he was concerned both parties had gotten what they wanted from the occasion and it was insulting to dress it up as anything which invoked that breather notion of 'romantic love'.

He couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief when he got into his coffin chamber and shut the door firmly behind him. This entire night had been an ordeal from the moment he had crawled out of his coffin in Oxford to the vicious confrontation with Ingrid a few hours ago. The demands of being Grand High Vampire hadn't weighed so heavily on his shoulders since the early nights of his reign. He had been so much younger then, younger by more than just years. Back then, he had turned to Bertrand to soothe it all away, trusting in the older vampire's wisdom. He knew now that had been a mistake.

He drifted towards the massive window of his coffin chambers. As per his instructions, the heavy velvet curtains were pulled away from the glass panes, allowing the light to pour into his room. It was the only way Vlad could bathe safely in the warmth of the sun. A telltale glow of silver shimmered in the dip of the valley; dawn was beginning to approach. Another night of immortality was over; another day of hiding from the sun was beginning. His first full day without Scarlett. Vlad angrily pushed the thought out of his mind; he had been here before with Erin and he had dealt with it. All he needed to do was ruthlessly quash his emotions. If he could do it once, he could do it again. But her scent still clung to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed... '_You really are a monster_' His heart throbbed with pain every time her words echoed in his mind. Closing his eyes, Vlad tried to force back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him. He was the Chosen One; he couldn't allow himself to experience such weakness.

The click of his door caught him off guard and he spun around baring his fangs in a menacing hiss. Now and again, a vampiress would try to push her luck and gain access to his inner chamber. For some reason, they seemed to think that invading his privacy would somehow grant them greater prestige; that they would be the one vampiress, who could tempt him further, ingratiate themselves into his unlife... they soon learnt that when Vlad closed the door behind him, he fully intended for it to remain so.

He retracted his fangs slowly as he took in the sight of the vampiress who had dared to follow him. It was her hair that captured his attention, pale golden hair that fell around her waist and before he knew what he was doing, he found himself holding out his hand in a gesture for her to join him. He deliberately turned his face away from the gleeful look that spread across her features. Scarlett would never have looked at him like that, like he was some prize to won.

He stared out of the window at the sunrise, wondering how it was possible for an unbeating heart to hurt so badly. He let the intruder press against his back, her cold fingers skimming over his shoulders blades before reaching around his waist to undo the dressing gown. Vlad caught her wrist, tugging her around to face him, if he kept his eyes half closed, if he didn't look too closely, perhaps in this mixture of light and shadow, he could pretend that she was Scarlett. Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed the vampiress passionately trying to seek some solace in his usual recreational pursuits but every detail was wrong. Her tongue didn't dance with his, it battled; her body was colder, thinner than Scarlett's, she smelt vaguely of lace and roses...

Vlad pulled away with a groan of frustration. The vampiress took this as a signal to commence other physical activities; Vlad stood perfectly still and allowed her, he didn't really care how many women he had to fuck, he just wanted Scarlett out of his mind. He wanted to stop feeling this bloody wretched over a breather who only die and wither before he even reached his first centennial as Grand High Vampire. Vlad's hands absent-mindedly entangled themselves in the hair of the vampiress who was kissing her way down his chest. It was a couple of shades too light for him to truly believe that it was Scarlett kneeling before him. Not that Scarlett had ever done anything remotely like this to him but ..._stakes and garlic_! How he had wanted her to. How he still wanted her to. How badly did he wish that the mouth surrounding him was hers. A heated mixture of guilt and arousal flooded through Vlad at just the mere thought of Scarlett doing what this vampiress was currently performing on him.

Biting his lip, Vlad tried to focus on the here and now but his mind kept slipping back to Scarlett. Her radiant smile when he entered a room, the comfort of her embrace, the way she said 'darling', her soft accent making the term more of an endearment than he was used to hearing. Vlad stood impassively, as the vampiress trailed kisses up his body, trying not to squirm at the coolness of her mouth against his skin, he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realise her true intentions until two sharp points of enamel were pressing against the side of his neck. With a snarl, Vlad grasped the woman's throat tightly with one hand, his eyes glittering red as he meet her horrified gaze. "That's treason," he growled, fury making his voice unnaturally deep and rough. "Grand High Treason to be precise."

The vampiress was trembling with fear, her pale blue eyes darting frantically between his fangs and his neck. "I'm...sorry," she stumbled over the words in her haste to explain. "I thought you would like it. Your neck, it's ... I thought you liked being bit..." She didn't dare to finish that sentence as Vlad's scowl blackened even further.

Self-consciously, he raised a hand to the fading bruises on his throat. _Scarlett._ Of course, his lovers would have observed, with curiosity, the marks on his neck. He had been foolish to forget about them. With a disgusted grimace, he dropped the vampiress onto the floor. "They were worthy." His eyes were still red as he waved his arm dismissively at the door. "If you dare speak a word of this to anyone..." Vlad let the threat of treason hang in the silence between them. He watched with contempt as she fled his presence.

Turning back to the window, Vlad observed the beauty of the dawning day, how light spilled out over the lush green fields and villages of his home country. Some villagers would already be awake and working through their daily tasks. Despite his privileged lifestyle, Vlad envied them; he would never be able to do something as ordinary as walk in the sunlight. With a heavy sigh, he moved towards the comforting darkness of his coffin. He should at least try to get some sleep before tonight's ceremony.

* * *

The bright winter sun glinted off the metal sword as the tour guide tapped it along the smooth worn cobbles, his dark purple cloak fluttering slightly in the breeze coming across the waters of the River Thames. Falling slightly behind the rest of the tour group, Scarlett paused for a moment to gaze upwards at the criss-crossing of various buildings in the sky, the beauty of the towering palaces against the modern skyline of London. With a rapturous sigh, she rested her hand lightly upon the pale stone of the Tower. "Imagine," she murmured softly, her eyes lighting up with something close to joy, "this building has been around for centuries, the events it must witnessed, the people who have stayed here." A thrill ran through her as her mind began to sift through a list of infamous guests and visitors who had graced this particular London landmark with their presence.

Charlie grinned as she slipped her arm through Scarlett's. "I told you it would be worth the early start," she replied without even the slightest trace of smugness. "Now, come on slowpoke. We need to catch up with a man in tights."

* * *

When Ryan's mistress was troubled, the other half-fangs had a tendency to hide away. They were afraid of her unpredictable temper and her extraordinary willingness to use a stake on anyone she found irritating. Ryan never hid away; it was at times like this Ingrid needed him more than ever.

He crouched before her, half kneeling awkwardly so that his face was tilted upwards, one hand resting on her dressing table to keep his balance, the other covering her hands. Her hands were so small and dainty, always perfectly manicured, no-one except Ryan could truly understand the cruelty those hands were capable of. Yet, he could never walk away from her, he could never abandon her, never stop loving her and now as she sat silently before him, he couldn't stop feeling her pain. It raged inside the stillness of his undead heart just as much as it raged inside hers.

"Tell me, what I can do." Surprised at his own daring, he curled his fingers around her folded hands, her skin felt like satin against the roughness of his palm.

Ingrid glanced down accusingly at his hand before pulling hers away, an expression of disgust flitting across her face. The quickness of the gesture tipped Ryan off balance and he tumbled to the floor. Ingrid glowered at him, her eyes almost purple in the candlelight. "Find me something, or better still, someone to drink." She rose elegantly from her seat, the netting of her dress brushing roughly past Ryan's cheek as she stepped over him.

* * *

The delicious aroma of chocolate and orange swirled upwards from the hot paper mug. Scarlett breathed it in deeply, appreciating the warmth of the steam against her cold skin. Flexing her hands around the container, she took advantage of the heat seeping through the cardboard to warm her fingers. The trees by the riverside were casting leaves, in glorious shades of red, orange and yellow, upon the pavement. The waters of the river lapped softly at the barges and boats moored nearby. Darkness had fallen rapidly on the city of London, large purplish clouds drifting across a starless sky tinged with the orange glow of light pollution. The buildings surrounding the riverbanks had begun to glow with artificial light, their glassy ugliness transforming into something rather beautiful against the blackness of nightfall.

Despite the dull persistent ache in her heart, Scarlett couldn't help sighing with contentment for just a brief moment. She had a wonderful day exploring the Tower of London, drinking in all the glorious knowledge and sights that this wonderful palace had to offer. Now as she stood here by the Thames with her best friend, swallowing mouthfuls of freshly made hot chocolate and watching the river landscape change before her eyes, it felt like something, raw and broken inside, was beginning to heal. A chink of light breaking through the overwhelming pain and despair that she had been experiencing since Vlad had casually tossed those cruel words at her.

'_You are nothing to me. Less than nothing.' _A wave of pain crashed through her at the memory and she took a shuddering breath that had nothing to do with the frosty air.

"We should live here someday," Charlie began conversationally as she glanced around at the crowds meandering along the riverside. "Perhaps, a luxury apartment, all modern glass and water features. I could be a city trader and you could be a city lawyer and we'll live in Canary Wharf." Underneath her glittery scarf, Charlie was wearing a mischievous smile, her green eyes sparkling as she thought up this most unlikely of scenarios to distract her friend from sad thoughts.

Scarlett sipped her hot chocolate. "I can just see you in a tie and pinstripes," she teased back before her face grew more serious. "I'd prefer somewhere older. Like one of those gorgeous Victorian terraces. Could you imagine restoring one of them to its former glory?"

"Camben Market," Charlie replied decisively, "That would be a pretty cool place to live." She gave Scarlett an affectionate poke with her elbow, "They have so many vintage shops."

Scarlett raised her paper cup in a toast. "Well then, to a future in London," she declared with mock pomposity.

Charlie nodded slowly, "To London," she replied gravely, tipping her paper mug against Scarlett's. Their eyes met at the same time and they both exploded into a fit of giggles.

Impulsively, Scarlett leaned over and wrapped her spare arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. "Thanks Charlie."

* * *

The last time he was in this room, he had been staked. Vlad bet that there weren't many vampires who could make that particular claim. The contrast between that night of frivolity and the more sombre occasion of tonight's initiation ceremony was remarkable. The hall had been transformed from a glittering ballroom into a dark foreboding space. Rows of recruits were marching into the vast space, their dark blue uniforms and shining badges making them appear uncomfortably similar to that of a private army. Vlad's tongue surreptitiously swept over the gleaming points of his fangs; it was going to be a very long evening. Perhaps, he should have placed a restriction on the number of guards that could be initiated at any one time. It was too late for that now; he would have to bear it in mind for the next time he recruited.

Around him, Vlad could hear whispers and sounds of approval from his fellow vampires – this display of power was much more to their liking. He knew that some of them still hadn't given up hope that he would launch a war against humanity.

Seated upon his throne at the upper end of the hall, Vlad was surrounded first by the thrones of the Dracula family and then by circles of Council members and Justices. He wanted all of them to witness the exchange of vows that would bind the new guards to their Grand High Vampire. It was about enforcing his position as ruler as much as it placated them and reassured them that they were involved in his governance.

Even now, almost three years later, Vlad's head still ached from the screaming rows that had taken place over the design and positioning of the Dracula thrones. His Dad and Ingrid had been fiercely competitive over every detail right down to the inches separating his throne from theirs. Sometimes, it was the minutiae that pushed Vlad to the absolute limits of his patience. The over-analysis of tiny, unimportant details, such as the distance between his throne and a particular Justice's seat, infuriated him beyond words. For creatures that had been granted immortality, vampires were surprisingly short sighted. There was so much work to be done, so much that had to be achieved before the existence of vampires could be unveiled to the breather population and yet his Council would squabble like school children over trivia. Bertrand had always been excellent at the detail, always knowing what to do or say to soothe ruffled feathers, always aware of the repercussions that could follow a misplaced word or a seemingly insignificant procedural flaw.

He would have to seek Bertrand's advice on how to handle Ramanga's increasingly obstructive behaviour. His former tutor would know exactly what words to whisper to the difficult clan leader, what secrets could be exposed to bring him back into line or, better still, what circumstances may be required before a nice, sharp stake could be brought into the equation. Vlad filed the matter away into the list of items that he would have to discuss with Bertrand on his return to Oxford. Realising the direction of his thoughts, Vlad gave himself an abrupt mental shake. It was all too easy to fall into the trap of dependence especially when the person offering their support seemed as dedicated and committed as Bertrand du Fortunesa. However, if his former tutor had taught him anything, it was that Vlad could trust no-one.

**Chapter 49 teaser**

'_He just wanted to hold onto his fantasy as long as possible.'_


	51. Chapter 49

_**An update on Tuesday... sorry it's been a while! Delighted that so many of you haven't been put off by the change up to an 'M' rating. Thank you so much for your reviews.**_

_**Just a warning; this chapter contains some sexual content, up to the reader's discretion whether to continue... **_

_**Hope you enjoy!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 49**

The round white tablets nestled perfectly in the palm of her hand. Trying not to think about it too much, Scarlett tossed them into her mouth and took a large gulp of water. She grimaced with distaste as the tablets slid down her throat, her stomach threatening to revolt at the unpleasant sensation. She looked up to find Charlie watching her anxiously. She rattled the prescription bottle meaningfully in the direction of her best friend. "It was only two," she said firmly. "Honestly, I promise I'm not going to do anything stupid."

Charlie folded her arms and gave Scarlett a stern look. "We have very different opinions on what constitutes 'anything stupid.'"

Scarlett rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the slight smile that crept across her lips. "OK, I promise I won't do anything that you would consider 'stupid'." She held out the bottle of pills.

Warily, Charlie reached forward and grasped the bottle firmly. "I know, I'm probably the world's biggest nag," she said softly. She sat down on the bed beside Scarlett. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

Scarlett drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Nothing ever does," she muttered bitterly. "I know Charlie, I know. He's just a boy. Just a foolish, stupid, immature boy. And I won't feel like this forever. It'll stop hurting." She lifted her face to meet Charlie's concerned eyes. "Please just keep reminding me of that."

Charlie nodded reassuringly. "I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow then?"

Scarlett managed a faint smile. "Yeah. Promise." She leant forward to intercept Charlie's affectionate hug.

After Charlie was gone, Scarlett shivered at the empty stillness of her room. At the moment, the last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts. Vlad's words just kept echoing in her mind, not just the cruel words of their break up but also his snarky banter with Robin, his softly whispered assurances when they were together... He was just there in her mind, constantly taunting her with his presence. The memories and feelings were mashing together uncomfortably, making her feel like she was suffocating under their weight. Unable to bear it any longer, Scarlett flicked through her DVD collection and selected an old favourite. Something fluffy with Marilyn Monroe should occupy her until the sleeping pills kicked in.

Nestling back into her duvet, Scarlett sighed in contentment as the familiar title sequence lit up the screen of her laptop. This film never failed to make her smile no matter how many times she watched it.

* * *

_Someone was curled up against his side, someone impossibly soft and warm, their heartbeat radiating through him. Scarlett. It was impossible of course, he knew that, knew that the phantom warmth and scent were all an illusion. His subconscious feelings rising to the surface as he drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep. He should ignore it, the sooner he moved towards that presence, the sooner it would disappear and he would be alone. Yet, as an arm slipped around his waist, Vlad found himself twisting slightly, moving deeper into the half embrace. Closing his eyes tightly, he just wanted to hold onto this fantasy as long as possible, he bent his head, lips fumbling gently over the silkiness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin, he could feel the ghost-like touch of her breath against his neck as she raised her face to his. _

_When their mouths met, the pretence of softness and patience left them both. She was as hungry and demanding as him, her heart racing, her blood pounding through them both. He wrapped his arms around her, entangling one hand in her hair, his fingers spreading out across the nape of her neck. As she moved her hips against his, he couldn't bite back his groan of arousal in time but instead of pulling back, she answered him with a low moan of her own. Her hands were slipping under his T-shirt, the heat a startling contrast to his cold skin, his skin prickling with every sweep of her fingers across his back. Her kisses were gentler now, almost as if she were distracted by the task of exploring his body. Vlad found himself torn with frustration because every time he pressed his mouth harder against hers, her hands would falter. Yet, it was thrilling, to know that he had that much of an effect on her, that his kiss could drive all other thoughts out of her mind. He tried his best not to tense as her hands ran down the length of his chest, her fingers skimming over the top of his trousers, they had done this before but it never got any easier, it still sent shockwaves crashing through him every time she came so perilously close but never close enough. There was a moment's hesitation but before he could reach for her hand, assure her that he could wait, that it didn't actually matter whether they went any further, her hand slipped under the waistband of his trousers. A jolt of shocked pleasure slammed through Vlad as her fingers tentatively began to explore him. He trailed a hand up her arm, admiring the softness of her skin, his hand cupping her elbow, it was a struggle to speak, he knew he shouldn't, if he spoke out loud then this fantasy would come crashing down around him and for all its vividness it had to be a fantasy for Scarlett to do this to a monster like him. _

"_You don't have to..." His voice sounded nothing like his own, he could barely remember the last time he had sounded so on edge, so damn bloody desperate._

"_I want to." Her answer was breathless, her lips moving against his as she spoke. She froze suddenly, her body becoming rigid against his, "Unless..." The uncertainty in her voice almost drove him mad. _

_With a savage groan, he rolled them both over so that she was beneath him, her soft curves pressing against the sharp angles of his body. Resting on one elbow, his other hand reached down to encircle her wrist. "For Lucifer's sake!" he cursed violently, finally opening his eyes to find hers gazing into his, the shades of fiery blue more alive and passionate than real sapphires could ever be. "Scarlett, you should know how much I want you by now!" _

_He hadn't anticipated that she would giggle, that the sound would shake her body against his in a way that only added to his arousal. That her hand would move across his face, the fingers tracing his cheekbones, his lips like he was something precious and breakable. That her lips could move so lovingly against his. Then her face was serious, he could see the doubts creeping back into her eyes, "Do you?" _

_How two words could ever sound so vulnerable was beyond him. He shifted upwards to press a kiss against her forehead. "Yes," he answered firmly. Shushing her with a gentle finger, he kissed her eyes as they fluttered closed, "Yes," the tip of her nose, "Yes", he deliberately pressed her hand harder against himself before brushing his lips lightly against hers, "Yes, Scarlett." The hard edge in his voice made her eyes open, he watched them darken with acknowledgement before she reached up for him, her lips crashing impatiently against his, her fingers moving over him in a way that made him gasp with satisfaction and for once he didn't try to hide it. He was beginning to realise that she needed that reassurance as much as he did. Just as it became too much, he grasped her hand, forbidding her to move any further until he regained control, he watched with amusement the range of emotions flickering across her face, her initial concern at his abrupt actions rapidly changing to something that was strangely close to awe. A gleam of confidence entering her eyes as she experimentally flexed her fingers around him only to be met with a muffled moan as Vlad buried his face in the warmth of her neck. "Don't!" he ordered sharply, a groan of exasperation escaping from him. _

_Her laugh was irresistible. "Don't what?"_

_Was she actually teasing him? The thought made him smile against the flesh of her shoulder. "Don't do that either," he warned her._

"_Or what?" She deliberately wriggled against him, her body shifting against his in a way that was unbelievably suggestive._

_Vlad lifted his head, a smirk creeping across his lips, "I'll have to reciprocate." His stomach clenched with fear at the sudden look of dread on her face, at the way she swallowed slowly, clearly filled with trepidation at the prospect of him getting intimate with her. He studied her for a moment, trying to work out what was suddenly so wrong about the situation. The current location of her right hand indicated that she wasn't completely averse to being close to him, hell she had even been happy to continue so why now?_

_Scarlett seemed to be having difficulty meeting his eyes. "You really don't have to." Crimson was staining her cheeks._

_Vlad cupped her cheek, his fingers stroking against the heated blood beneath her skin. "I want to." _

_He kept his eyes focused on hers as she gave him a disbelieving look. "But I'm..."_

"_Beautiful," he finished her sentence, the firmness of his voice clearly surprising her. Had he ever told her that? He knew he had certainly thought it. It was always in his head but perhaps he had never actually spoken the words. "Beautiful," he repeated it, this time it was a whisper. He didn't care what he had to say, he didn't care if he sounded ridiculous or over the top, what he did care about was her. He wanted her to realise that, to have a tiny inkling of how much he felt for her. _

_For a long moment, they stared at one another, too many thoughts and questions filling the silence between them, too much pain breaking through into the dream, reminders of reality seeping into their minds. "Not now." Scarlett muttered the words fiercely, her eyes closing tightly as if she were trying to block something out. Then unexpectedly, she was kissing him again, her mouth ferociously hot and demanding against his, her body wrapping itself around his in a way that made him all too conscious of the layers of clothing separating them. He didn't dare question it, he didn't want to question it, didn't want to lose her and when she tugged at his T-shirt, he didn't hesitate to simply pull it over his head and toss it aside. When his hands glided between her top to cup her breasts, he focused on the way she leant into his touch, on how her hand tightened around him in response. He was trying to remember every touch, every caress, all the ways in which he could make her cry his name, because it was important, it was more important than ever before that he got this right. When his hand moved downwards to toy with the waistband of her pyjamas, he felt her freeze against him, felt the blood rush into her cheeks as she broke away from his kiss, her eyes dark and vulnerable in the dim light, "Vlad," the strangled manner in which she spoke his name left him uncertain as to whether it was an invitation or a plea to stop. _

_He ran his thumb contemplatively over the cotton material, patiently waiting for her to clarify whether she was granting permission or not. His lips twitched with amusement at the navy lettering, 'zzzzzz time', he couldn't resist teasing her, "Sexy," he mock growled, his fingers tracing over the print. "First time, I've ever been seduced by a woman in pyjamas." He ignored the warning bells that were beginning to clang in his head, he knew deep down what they were trying to say, knew that this entire fantasy was impossible in so many ways, but not now. Later._

_Right now she was in his arms and she was arching upwards to meet him, she was pulling him closer, her breath brushing against his ear in a way that was unbelievably seductive. "Maybe next time, I'll wear red silk." Her lips pressed slowly against his ear in a feather light kiss. _

_Vlad pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. "Promise?" he asked solemnly before slipping his hand lower to caress her intimately. The half spoken curse that slipped past her lips had to be the most gratifying response he had ever received from a lover. He lowered his mouth to her throat, knowing exactly how and where she liked him to kiss, how hard to press his fangs against her flesh to make her gasp with frustration, how to trace his tongue against the sweetness of her skin and he would learn how exactly she liked him to touch his fingers against her, exactly how he could make her clutch at his back and sob his name. He would dedicate every second of every minute to learning that if only she would allow him..._

* * *

The Grand High Vampire was not the most amendable person to wake up but he had never grabbed him by the throat and snarled in his face before. Dmitri had never been as grateful for nepotism as he was now. He was fairly certain that, as Renfield's feet dangled helplessly in the air, the Count's servant was seriously regretting his decision to interfere in Dmitri's duties. He had to admit the servant put up a good front; only the grubby hands clawing weakly at Vlad's pale fingers gave any indication of his discomfort.

Dmitri cleared his throat loudly and unnecessarily. "Your Highness?" he directed a fairly pointed look at the gasping servant.

Unceremoniously, Vlad dropped Renfield with a splat onto the floor. The young vampire's eyes were gleaming red with fury. "You had better have a very good reason for waking me."

Dmitri resisted, with considerable difficulty, the urge to raise his eyebrows sarcastically. "Your orders were clear." He tilted his head meaningfully towards the blaring alarm clock on Vlad's dressing table. "You have a Council meeting in exactly fifty-four minutes."

The redness faded from Vlad's eyes as he irritably ran a hand through his hair. "Yes," he conceded with a scowl. "I'll get ready now."

Dmitri nodded approvingly. "Your supper is on the table." He gestured towards the mixture of soy blood and freshly buttered hot toast.

Much like any teenage boy, the Grand High Vampire's mood improved considerably at the prospect of food. "Thank you Dmitri." He poked Renfield distastefully with his foot. "You can leave now."

The servant scrambled to his feet and shot out of the room. He moved surprisingly fast for a breather. Dmitri cast a curious glance over the strangely flushed figure of his master before following in Renfield's wake.

* * *

Toast had never tasted so delicious before; all of a sudden he had regained his appetite. Settling back in his coffin, Vlad took a gulp of soy blood before devouring the rest of his supper. By all rights, he should be livid. Putting aside the fact that he had been interrupted at a very inconvenient moment by that idiot Renfield, it was rather worrying that a mortal had been able to enter the dreamworld on two separate occasions. It should be impossible; he shouldn't have the ability to drag breathers into the vampiric dimensions. Worse still, he had absolutely no idea how he was doing it. He needed to get this particular skill under control otherwise it could prove very dangerous for him and Scarlett. He added it to the growing list of questions that he had to discuss with Bertrand; he had no doubt, whatsoever, that his former tutor would either know the answers or know how to get them. He wouldn't, however, tell Bertrand the specific details, particularly of the most recent breach.

'_Maybe next time, I'll wear red silk.' _Vlad took another deep gulp of soy blood in an effort to stop himself from grinning like an imbecile. He failed miserably but he couldn't bring himself to care very much. So what if he turned up to a Council meeting in a good mood? The change would probably have a positive effect on his Councillors; at the very least it might unnerve them enough to agree to some of the less palatable aspects of the peace programme. His smile only widened as he recalled just how soft and smooth Scarlett's skin had been against his, the provocative way in which she had pressed against him... No, this smirk was definitely here to stay. There was no way Scarlett would have let him get that close unless she still cared for him. Some people were able to separate feelings from the physical act but he already knew that Scarlett wasn't one of them. And if she had been frightened of him, afraid that he would bite her as he had bitten Bertrand then she wouldn't have let him anywhere near her neck let alone arching into his touch, encouraging him to press his fangs harder... Perhaps he had gotten it all wrong; perhaps he still had a chance.

* * *

The mug smashed into chunks as it made contact with her wall. Scarlett didn't even care that the sound might wake up a neighbour. Curling up into a ball, she struggled to breathe as the frantic sobs tore their way out of her chest. Fat, thick tears rolled down her cheeks. How dare he? Wasn't it enough that he had dumped her? Wasn't it enough that he insulted and belittled her? Made her feel worthless and ugly? Now, he was messing around with her dreams again. Telling her things that he had no right to say, doing things to her that she really shouldn't have allowed.

The mortification only made her cry harder. How could she have done that? How could she have let him touch her after what he had said? Now, he knew how weak and pathetic she was, how she still wanted him even after what he had done. That she was so in thrall to him that she would allow him back into her life. She would never in a million years understand how he could do it, how he could look at her like that, make her feel like she was the most beautiful, fragile girl in the world, make her feel so loved and cherished and yet. underneath it all, feel nothing but contempt for her. Despise her even. He was just playing with her, torturing her, even in her sleep she wasn't safe from his games.

Scarlett couldn't stop crying, her shoulders still shook with the force of the emotions trying to escape her body, she could only snatch breaths of air in shuddering gulps between the sobs. Why was he doing this to her? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She hated him. Truly she did; she hated Vladimir Dracula more than she had ever hated anyone in her life.

**Chapter 50 teaser**

'_You know the drill, only so many can be sacrificed.'_


	52. Chapter 50

_**Apologies for not updating on Saturday, I wasn't feeling well and spent most of the weekend sleeping. I wasn't going to resume posting today, (still feel a bit icky) but I thought it might serve as a welcome distraction from the all the angst in the canon verse. I will really try to get another chapter up on Saturday but between all my deadlines and feeling under the weather it might not be possible. Sorry again! : (  
**_

_**Thank you for such lovely reviews; they always make me want to write more as fast as possible! It means alot to hear that you're enjoying it.**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 50**

Striding across the room, Father Tobias cast a critical eye over his companions. His sharp eyes could detect no trace of the weapons that they were trying to conceal from the slayers. Giving them all a nod of satisfaction, he turned back sharply to the woman sitting at the table, her hands moving quickly over the keyboard. "Everything in place?"

Sister Augusta barely raised her eyes from the screen. "Yes Toby." Her long suffering tone indicated that she was getting fed up of the priest's constant interruptions. "As soon as it's dusk, I'll trigger the alarm. Given the distance between the headquarters and the fake attack you should have twenty minutes max to complete your operation."

Father Tobias smiled slightly at the familiar way in which she shortened his name. "Thanks Gus. You'll be on stand-by..." he let the sentence trail off as Sister Augusta rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes," she waved an impatient hand at them. "Now go! Get into your positions."

Father James stepped forward as the group of men moved in unison towards the door. "Are you sure you don't need my assistance?"

Father Tobias laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "No, you know you're too emotionally involved." He said it kindly but they both knew what he was implying. The Guild didn't have the best track record when it came to their treatment of prisoners.

Father Michael nodded in agreement. "Besides, you do have an evening mass to prepare for," he said briskly as he pushed past the Irish priest.

* * *

It was strange how certain fears melted away in the brightness of daylight. How the dark thoughts that plagued you in the hours before dawn seemed somehow less substantial when they were exposed to the humdrum reality of everyday life. Life didn't get more humdrum or depressing than Mondays mornings.

After several cups of tea, a bacon sandwich and early morning pep talk from Charlie, the rest of the day had settled down into something approaching ordinary. The History Faculty were not going to let something as insignificant as the near destruction of their main lecture hall disrupt their routine. It was a regrettable fact of university life that the undergraduate students had to receive some form of education for their money and so the majority of second year lectures were relocated to a wing in the Pitts River Museum. Walking through the ornate Victorian grandeur of the museum with its beautifully carved marble statutes and vaulted ceiling always stirred something deep inside Scarlett, something close to joy or awe. How could anyone not respond to such architectural beauty? Then, during lectures, she bumped into some History friends, people she hadn't seen nearly all term because of her obsessive work on the project and it seemed only natural that they would all go out for a late lunch. After a hour or two of gossiping about the latest in the soaps, setting the world of politics to rights and finally agreeing on a couple of dates for formal hall swaps, Scarlett felt almost normal.

As she waved goodbye to her friends and stepped out into the golden warmth of the autumn sunlight, she couldn't help thinking that it would be a sin to spend such a glorious afternoon in a library. Reasoning that she should make the most of the daylight, she found herself wandering down to the river. The rich colours of the dying leaves crackled beneath her feet, the occasional shout from the river signalled that rowers were training, the geese, as ever, were aggressively seeking the breadcrumbs being thrown to their competition - the considerably fluffier and more agreeable ducks. It was all so reassuringly normal! This world of rowers and geese didn't have to worry about strange dreams or creatures of the supernatural. Things like vampires and ancient prophecies seemed faintly ridiculous when you were surrounded by mothers pushing prams and determined joggers slogging away to the beat of their iPods.

Tucking her long skirt beneath her boots, Scarlett settled back on the bench and took a few minutes to watch the world go by. In the distance, she could see Beenie, a local artist, surrounded by papers and a flask as she sketched the scene before her. Nice lady Beenie, always welcoming you over for a chat and a sip of Irish coffee from her flask. Scarlett realised with a jolt that this was the first time she had seen the artist all term. When she began to think about it, really think about it, she realised how hard she had been working on the research project, how much time Vlad had consumed. Oh that hurt. Just thinking his name felt like someone was sticking a knife into her chest.

Was any of it real? Her heart throbbed with pain as she sat in the sunlight thinking it over. How could vampires really exist? How could an entire supernatural world have surrounded humanity for so long without them realising? How could the things she had seen be real? People turning to dust at the touch of wood, the lights of London glittering below her when she flew in Vlad's arms, dreams which seeped into reality... Although, let's be honest, she couldn't blame Vlad entirely for that one; her dreams had always had a discomfiting way of connecting with reality, a snippet here, a conversation there. It was nothing special though, Charlie had assured her of that, nothing to really worry about. Except for that one recurring nightmare; all blood, light and anguish... could it become real too? The thought made her shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold riverside air.

* * *

Alarms blared throughout the Guild building; the harsh screeching tone and ear splitting volume were all too familiar to Jonno van Helsing. He had lived with the noise since his Dad died. He knew that every time he heard the alarm, it meant that someone else was in danger of losing their loved ones. That thought always spurred him onwards, it didn't matter whether his life was in his danger or not, all that mattered was saving someone else from suffering as his family had suffered.

Beside him, Tariq was pulling on his military style jacket, complete with garlic lining, assorted stakes and UV gun as standard. He was muttering complaints under his breath. He gave Jonno an accusatory glare as he slammed his locker door. "This is the second vamp attack in a week!" When the metal door bounced back, Tariq only slammed it more viciously. "We haven't had an attack in over four hundred years but since you two arrived, it's like..." Tariq didn't get to finish his sentence because Dave rushed past, bellowing at everyone to move faster, to get into the vans waiting outside. However, the slayer did have time to cast a darkly suspicious look over his shoulder at Jonno before jogging out of the changing room.

Slipping his hand into the top pocket of his jacket, Jonno's fingers skimmed against the crumpled paper of a fading photograph. It was a ritual for luck, for reassurance, a small way of saying to his Dad that he was doing all of this for him. And Mum. And now Erin. For everyone whose lives had been destroyed by vampires and by one blood sucking leech in particular – Vlad Dracula.

* * *

With the darkness of dusk, Scarlett could feel all the doubts and fears creeping back into her mind. Still reluctant to go back to her empty room, she headed towards another place where she could expect comfort and solitude. As the street lamps began to spill their yellow light into the cobbles, she walked to church – her Church. It was at troubling times like this, Scarlett couldn't help reverting back to her childhood where the Church was a place of safety, a bubble of calm and peace in an increasingly ugly world.

Her heels clicked softly against the large paving stones of the Church path. The contrast between the brash modernity of the Tesco store across the road and the serene age of the Church usually brought a wry smile to her lips but this evening Scarlett wasn't in the mood for smiling.

Before entering the tranquillity of the building, she took a few moments to trace her fingers over the moss slowly creeping up the exterior walls. The Church had once burned people like her, people with unnatural abilities, people who associated with the living dead, people who committed the sins that she had almost committed with Vlad last night... She pressed her forehead against the roughness of the stone wall. What would they have done to a person such as her? Yet, it was difficult to fear the wrath of an institution which had done so much to protect her. An institution that had fought long, hard and sometimes quite viciously to bring her back into their sphere of influence during the aftermath of her parents' deaths. The Church meant many different things to people: privilege, corruption, power, but to Scarlett, the Church meant security, safety, protection. Its doors were always open and even if she didn't necessarily agree with everything that they had taught her, it was extremely difficult to disavow herself from the beliefs that had been instilled since her childhood.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the heavy oak doors and dipped her fingers into the still pool of holy water awaiting her.

* * *

You had to give Sister Augusta her due, that woman really knew her way around the Guild's security protocols. Once the alarm had been sounded, it had taken only a few minutes for the Guild building to empty, all the slayers grabbing their stakes and rushing into their vans. Given the speed at which they had driven off, it was clear that they believed the alarm was genuine. The Order had mere minutes to work their way through the building and locate Professor Teverson before their deceit was uncovered and the slayers returned. How very fortunate then that the Order had both the layout of the building and the security codes to pass through whatever barriers were in their way. Well, almost all of the barriers, there was the rather sensitive issue of getting into the secure containment unit. One could only hope that the ultimate code had not been altered since Loewe's leadership had begun.

Tapping the buttons delicately with his gloved fingers, Father Tobias gave his comrades a nod of warning before pressing his finger against the last digit. There was a moment in which they all held an anxious breath as the alarm flashed red. They sighed collectively with relief when it turned green and declared in a tinny voice: 'Access granted.' As the steel doors rumbled open, Father Tobias waved in two Order members before holding his arm out to prevent the rest from entering. "You know the drill, only so many can be sacrificed." His face was grim as he glanced at the alarm. It was still glowing in a contented shade of green. "We don't know whether a signal has already reached them, notifying them of our break in. Guard the exits, if they come back early then you understand what must be done." With those orders, Father Tobias plunged into the eerie shadows.

* * *

Scarlett often thought that there was a kind of magic in religious buildings. Upon entering a church or its non-Christian equivalent, a strange calm would begin to unfold inside her, an emotion which seemed to flow from the peacefulness of the building. Time, taste and scent were all different in a religious building, minutes and hours ceased to be relevant inside these walls, the air was always somehow heavier, richer and there was always something different, an indefinable quality, about the way it tasted on her tongue. For lack of a better word to describe this elusive quality, she thought of it as holiness. The scent of holiness could comfort her in a way that nothing else could. It clung to the rosary beads that she carried everywhere with her, providing her with a small piece of the Church's special kind of comfort.

"Penny for them?"

Father James' voice shook Scarlett out of her reverie. Lifting her face from the red beads wrapped around her hands, Scarlett smiled as the priest sat down on the pew next to her. "Nothing important," she replied shyly. If the priest beside her knew half of the things that she had been thinking or doing lately, she doubted that he would smile at her in such a warm and friendly manner.

Father James cast a thoughtful look over the rosary beads entangled in her fingers. "Perhaps, I am interrupting," he said gently.

Scarlett shook her head. "No, Father." She glanced down at the strings of beads in her hand, the smooth metal of the crucifix was warm against the skin of her palm. "I've just got a lot to think about." She looked up again to find Father James' eyes upon her, the priest was wearing a look of concern. When most people wore such an expression, Scarlett got paranoid and defensive, she didn't trust them or their methods of supposedly 'helping' but, over the past year, Father James had proven to be quite hands-off in his approach to pastoral care. He was the sort of priest who was simply there, waiting for when you needed a kindly word or a patient ear. He didn't push himself forward; he didn't force his assistance on you. After the number of people who had interfered in her life, Scarlett appreciated his kind of approach.

"Anything I can help with?"

The warmth in his eyes confirmed the genuine nature of his offer but Scarlett shook her head anyway. How could Father James help her? How could she tell this man of the cloth that she was frightened of her own dreams? That vampires really did exist. That she might have been helping the wrong person in some crazy quest to find a super weapon? The priest accepted her words at face value but it seemed that he wasn't in any hurry to depart her company and so they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes as

Scarlett stared down at the metal in her hand. Silver and wood; how strange that her rosary beads were a combination of the two most deadly elements that could be used against a vampire.

* * *

The huddled mass of bloodied flesh and rags in the corner was barely breathing. Father Michael raised a gloved hand to his mouth in horror as he tried to choke back the bile that was rapidly flooding his throat. There wasn't time for such squeamishness. Any moment now, the slayers could return and this fate may await him and other members of the Order if they didn't fulfil their objectives in time. It wasn't as if Father Michael hadn't attended victims of war in the past, it wasn't as if he hadn't encountered brutality and violence, it was just that he had never expected this of the Guild. This was not what any of them had intended when the Guild had been established. The Guild was meant to protect the innocent, not torture them. If this was what the Guild considered necessary to achieve their objectives then they were as cruel and wicked as the supernatural creatures they hunted.

Despite the constraints on his time, Father Michael lifted Professor Teverson into his arms with extraordinary gentleness. To think that he had argued against this, that he would have left this poor woman, or what now remained of her, at the mercy of such monsters.

* * *

"Do you think we can ever be more than what nature says we have to be?" The words tumbled out of Scarlett's mouth before she seriously thought about what she was saying. She cringed slightly at the awkwardness of her question. "I mean, you can be more than what others label you as? We don't have to conform to the category we're put into - right?" What she really wanted to ask was whether a vampire, even the most powerful vampire of them all, could ever be something other than evil but somehow she thought that question might be too weird. Even for the unflappable Father James.

The priest was quiet as he mulled over her questions, she got the impression that he was giving them careful consideration despite the half-witted way in which she had blurted them out. "It sounds like you are contemplating determinism," he replied carefully. "Biological or otherwise."

Scarlett nodded cautiously. Yes, determinism, she supposed that was one way of putting it. Vlad's status as a vampire; did it truly mean what he had implied the other night? That as a creature of the undead, it was almost inevitable that he would possess a cruel, violent streak. And if so, what did that mean for the rest of the world? If he got his hands on this super weapon, would all the bloodshed and chaos of her nightmare come true?

"It's certainly a profound question." There was a hint of humour in Father James' soft, Irish tones. "One that many philosophers, greater than us, have struggled with." His eyes were keen as they swept over her. "What do you think?"

Almost by instinct, Scarlett shrugged dismissively. As if she could ever make a meaningful contribution to a debate as important and long running as determinism versus free will. For goodness sake, she wasn't even capable of formulating a coherent question about it.

Unfortunately, Father James wasn't one to be put off quite so easily. "No, truly child, I would be interested in your opinion."

"I hate it." Scarlett could tell Father James was surprised at the vehemence of her response and the questioning manner in which he raised his eyebrows prompted her to continue. "I hate the very notion that we are all somehow doomed to live our lives in a particular way, that the decisions we make are in a sense already made for us, that everything is planned out and there's no escaping, no changing, no rewriting of our destinies. It's almost like we're worthless, nothing more than pawns in some game and we don't even get to know the rules."

Father James nodded understandingly. "And yet?"

Scarlett flushed slightly at his unfinished question. "Sometimes, it does feel like the future has already been decided." Her fingers ran over the interlocking strands of her rosary beads. She paused before continuing in a voice that was almost a whisper. "Sometimes, I feel like somebody has already decided for me. It's like Oxford, I feel like I was meant to be here." She laughed softly, mockingly at herself. "I know, it sounds big headed, I don't mean it like that. I just mean that ..." She fell silent, feeling unable to explain how she had felt so compelled to apply to Winterville College, how Oxford had just felt so right for her, how she had fallen in love with the city from the moment that she arrived for her interview on a bitterly cold and snowy December evening, how out of thousands she was lucky enough to be chosen by Professor Teverson, how fortunate she had been in securing such a generous scholarship from the Church to fund her studies.

* * *

The footsteps echoing along the corridor were different. Or were they? Had they given him so much chloroform that he was losing his mind? It would explain his tiredness, his weakness. When had he last eaten? It wasn't a question that mattered. After all, he wasn't hungry, he wasn't thirsty, he wasn't really anything anymore, just tired... He remembered being angry once, that seemed very long ago now, he had lost that feeling, that burning desire for ... _something_. When had he lost it? A few hours ago, or was it days?

The metal door to his cell clanged open. Light poured in, the darkness scattering to hide in the corners, the figure wasn't Jonno but it wasn't Dave. The brightness was burning his eyes. Blinking blearily, Thomas could make out the distinct square of white at the figure's throat. He offered up a silent prayer of gratitude as he passed out once again. The Order was here.

* * *

Father James found himself gazing up at the magnificence of the glass stained window. It was easier to look at that than to look into the face of his niece as he tried to address her fears. "I think life is a mixture. There are perhaps some points where something was always going to happen but ultimately we can choose how we handle it." He knew that his face must appear unusually sombre as he studied the beautiful glass before him. "We always have a choice Scarlett. It may not be a choice that we like, it may seem like no choice at all, but I believe we are accorded, at least, that small measure of free will." It was only now that he could turn his head away from the religious icons to gaze intently at the young woman by his side. "That's probably not the answer that you were seeking. I'm sorry, my child, I believe it is the best that I can truthfully offer."

Scarlett met his gaze with an appreciative smile. "It is a rather difficult question." There was a note of teasing in her reply and it genuinely warmed his heart to hear it. She wouldn't know it of course but that quirk of humour came from Robert. Her father. His brother. She didn't even know that she was his niece. Or, perhaps more pressingly, her status as the Order's protégée...

His wistful thoughts were interrupted by the rich timbre of Father Gabriel's voice. "Father James, I believe it is almost time for evening mass." As the priest glided, with serene grace, up the aisle, his dark blue eyes settled upon the young woman by Father James' side. He gave her a respectful nod, a smile of genuine delight spreading across his lips as he spoke. "You must be Scarlett Collins. One of the stars in Father Benedict's wonderful choir." He held out his hand. "I hope to hear you sing this evening."

Father James couldn't help but notice the slightly awed expression on his niece's face. Father Gabriel's presence often had that effect on people, it was classical beauty of his face combined with the overwhelming sense of goodness that the priest carried around with him. It was also something that Father Gabriel seemed oblivious to, a fact which probably only served to make him all the more endearing.

"Yes, Father," Scarlett shook his hand firmly, a blush creeping across her face at his words of praise. A puzzled expression began to form as she studied the priest more closely. "Have we met before?"

"Father Gabriel!" The shout echoed through the Church as Father Luis, another member of the Order, jogged up the centre aisle. "Father Gabriel! You're needed. Urgently!"

Father Gabriel gave Scarlett an unruffled smile. "Perhaps, another evening." He departed at a brisk pace, following the other priest into the private quarters of the Church.

Scarlett's forehead continued to crease into a mild frown. Clearly, she was still wondering where she had previously met the visiting priest. Perhaps, he should have been worried that she had missed the blood covering Father Luis' hands, it was hardly an endorsement of the Order's training that such a significant detail had escaped her attention, but, right now, as his stomach churned with fear, Father James felt that there were more urgent matters to worry about.

**Chapter 51 teaser**

'_Breathers like you always respond to authority.'_


	53. Chapter 51

_**Amazing to come back onto FFN and see so many new fics/old fics updated. Happy reading times ahead for me. Yay! Definitely going to be taking up HyaHya's Lightning Challenge : )**_

_**Sorry, Vlad lovers, another chapter without your favourite vampire, I promise I'm not sulking with him and there are lashings of him to come in future chapters. **_

_**I'm really sorry that my posting has been so erratic lately. I hate letting people down so I've decided I'm only going to post on Saturdays until series 4 is over. **__**HopeCoppice says it's not medically possible to actually die of 'feels'. That's not what my poor wee heart was saying last Tuesday... **__**I know this is still letting readers down but at least I will be consistent again and you will be guaranteed an update on Saturdays.  
**_

_**I hope you enjoy this.**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 51**

The words were blurring into an ambiguous mass of black and cream. Only two were sticking in her mind and they weren't even written on the papers that Vlad had given her to review. Oxford. Australia. Oxford. Australia. Oxford. Australia. With a hiss of frustration, she threw her pen down onto the desk. Her scowl deepened as the ink splattered across the parchment. At least some of it landed on her brother's scrawling signature. A small source of satisfaction but she took pleasure in it nonetheless.

Which one should she choose? Obviously, Vlad would prefer not to give her the choice. Well, tough, he could kiss her cape if he thought he was ordering her about after what he had said the other night. _'You got your position purely because of me, because you're my sister.' _Just the memory of his words made her snarl with rage. Now, he was all contrition and apologies, all Ingrid, I could really do with your opinion on this, Ingrid, why don't you take responsibility for this, Ingrid what do you think? He could bloody flap off.

Australia was the obvious choice. It offered luxury, adoration, crowds of vampires seeking her attention. In Australia, she would be worshipped as a vampire goddess. What could Oxford possibly offer to compete with that?

_Robin Branagh._

Ingrid swallowed hard. Images of Robin licking the spoon flooded her mind. Impossible heat flooded through her veins. Not him. That traitor was nowhere near a good enough reason to return to England. To some wretchedly tiny city, where breathers offered you cheesecake instead of their necks and where her brother kept a murderous former employee locked up in the cellar. A city where her half-fangs fell mysteriously ill, where she caught glimpses of herself in shiny surfaces, where a potential weapon was hidden... a weapon so powerful that it would considerably even the odds between her and Vlad. _'You're still receiving power from a man rather than gaining it on your own merits.' _Ingrid stared down at the black ink which was consuming Vlad's signature. So her younger brother who had everything handed to him on a platter wanted_ her _to gain something on her own merit? Imagine what his response would be if she got hold of the source before him? If she was the one wielding all that power... A deadly smile began to creep across Ingrid's glossy lips.

* * *

Professor Teverson had been laid on top of the bed covers. Her face was so battered that she was barely recognisable as the vibrant, intelligent woman whose outstanding work on supernatural history had first attracted the attention of the Order all those years ago.

Father Luis' face was pale and drawn as he turned to the older priest. "Can you help her?"

Father Gabriel nodded slowly. It pained him to look upon the injuries that Professor Teverson had sustained. Grief flooded his heart, as he touched the black bruising on her wrists. It didn't matter how many years he had spent on this earth, he would never get used to this, he would never understand how humanity could turn so viciously on itself or the indescribable cruelty that people were capable of. It was at times like this, he found it more difficult to ignore the dark thoughts that crowded around him. To silence the voices that demanded to know why this 'humanity' was worth saving. Why didn't they just throw this world to the mercy of the darkness? It was no less than what these wicked creatures deserved.

Briefly, he closed his eyes and took a calming breath. It was at times like this, humanity needed protection more than ever. Protection, not just from the evil that lurked in the shadows but also from themselves and the wrongs that they were willing to impose on others. Wrongs that were born out of fear and ignorance. Placing his hands a few inches above the woman's lifeless body, he began to softly chant in a language ancient to humans and vampires alike. Aramaic. Light, dazzlingly brilliant, began to flow out of his hands and into Professor Teverson.

* * *

Stepping out into the cold night, Scarlett sighed in contentment. Her throat felt sore and achy from choir practice, Father Benedict was already stressing about the Christmas services and she had a funny feeling that they were all going to be very weary of singing carols by mid December. The ground was already being to sparkle with frost; white markings were slowly creeping up the metal railings and across the headstones.

Scarlett's head turned quickly to her left as a shadowy figure jumped off one particularly large gravestone and came sauntering towards her.

"Hey!" Robin's dark eyes peered out from over his scarf. He was shivering slightly despite wearing both his leather coat and hoodie. She could only assume his cape was being dry-cleaned since he had taken to wearing it almost all the time. "How long does it take to sing a few hymns?"

Scarlett tsked gently. "Robin, you should have just come inside. We do have heaters, you know!" She gestured back at the warm glow of the Church's interior.

Robin scowled and dug his hands even deeper into his pockets. "You also have religion."

Scarlett suppressed a cynical smile. "Yes, well you'll have a cold soon from hanging out in icy graveyards." She linked her arm through his as they began to walk out onto the busy street. "And you really shouldn't sit on the gravestones like that. It's rather disrespectful."

"Oh please." Robin rolled his eyes, "Like they are going to do anything about it. Anyway, fancy a kebab? I missed hall and the microwave in Old Lizzie's is broken. Again. I blame the first years." Robin's hall of residence, the grandly named Elizabeth II Building, had the worst luck ever when it came to kitchen appliances. Not least because it housed Robin.

"Hmm. Didn't a certain second year cause the last one to explode? Something to do with boiling eggs?" Scarlett gave him a quizzical look.

"Technically," Robin grinned wickedly, "That was the second last microwave. And who even knew that eggs could do that? It was kind of awesome."

Scarlett chuckled at the memory. "So, you sat outside in the freezing cold for hours, just to ask me for a kebab?"

Robin gave her a bashful smile. "Not quite," he admitted reluctantly. "Oxford just not the safest place to be at the moment." He glanced around at the crowds milling in the streets. "You know what I mean." There was a grim undercurrent to his voice that she had never heard before. It was a startling reminder that Robin, despite his geeky appearance, was more than capable of handling himself in a tricky situation.

"I do know self-defence." Scarlett steered him towards their college kebab van, the owner knew them by name and always gave them extra chips for being such loyal customers. Charlie wouldn't be impressed if she knew that Scarlett was breaking the 'ball' diet but surely one little kebab special wouldn't hurt?

Robin stopped suddenly and gave her a hard look, his eyes glittering black against the paleness of his skin. "Not against vampires."

* * *

From the very second, he stepped back into the building, Jonno sensed something was wrong. It was something almost inexplicable, a feeling in his stomach, a prickling of his skin and yet logically it didn't make sense. False alarms were a regular occurrence especially after a significant vamp attack. The Guild headquarters were just as they had left them, no alarms had been tripped, nothing was out of place, everything screamed normal at him and yet... that tingling feeling in his stomach.

Trying to ignore his gut instinct, Jonno followed the rest of the slayers into the common room where already the kettle had been flicked on and someone was preparing the mugs. Given, what he and Dave were hiding in the cells below, it was more important than ever to build up a sense of comradeship with the other slayers.

* * *

A tiger trapped in a cage; that's what the vampire behind the lilac bars reminded her of. Powerful, dangerous and yet at the same time strangely subdued and vulnerable. His dignity stripped away by the artificial situation that he had been placed in. The first time Scarlett saw a tiger in real life, its vibrant beauty caught behind a thick glass barrier, she had been struck by two things. The first was that nothing could truly prepare you for how exquisite the creature was in the flesh. The second was that it was wrong to keep such a magnificent creature penned up for the amusement of humans. For months after that trip to the zoo, her eight year old self had stayed awake long into the dark hours of the night, plotting up ever crazier schemes to free the animal behind the glass.

Bertrand rose gracefully to his feet as she approached, a wary look in his eyes, his face sternly disapproving. "You shouldn't be here." His words were a statement rather than a threat.

Scarlett's eyes narrowed. "Says who?"

"Vlad." Bertrand and Robin answered simultaneously before glaring at each other.

Scarlett glanced from one scowling face to another, trying to keep her smile of amusement to herself, it wouldn't help matters. She also decided against arguing with either of them, perhaps they were keen to follow Vlad's orders but she certainly wasn't. It had taken a full twenty minutes to persuade Robin to take her to Bertrand. A considerable period of time given that Robin's usual attitude was 'ok, ok, ok, I'll do anything to shut you up – just stop nagging me!' She took her time walking over to the cage, her steps slow and measured, holding her hands up to show that they were empty of any weapons. She kept her eyes on Bertrand's even though the intensity of his gaze made her shiver. She only stopped when she reached the flickering bars of light, at this proximity she had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact with the imprisoned vampire. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

* * *

There was always one slayer who had a bottle of something tasty tucked away in the cupboard. Whiskey, tequila, vodka, it wasn't the type of alcohol that mattered, it was the thought. It was about sloshing a bit into everyone's mug, about toasting your survival and perhaps exchanging a boast or two about your best slays. As he knocked back his measure of rum, they all had Terry to thank for that, Jonno couldn't help admitting to himself that this was more like it. The companionship, the friendly ribbing, the sense of belonging, this was how the Guild was meant to be. It wasn't meant to be full of secrecy and lies. The leadership shouldn't be deceiving the men and women at the bottom who worked so hard to defend the lives of ordinary, decent people.

He wondered if there was a way out, if there was any way of escaping the nightmarish situation he had gotten himself into with Dave. The heavy hand suddenly weighing on his shoulder told him otherwise. "We need to talk." Dave hissed the words into Jonno's ear before abruptly leaving the common room.

Jonno knew he shouldn't have ignored his gut.

* * *

The situation was entirely what Vlad had warned him against, this was Bertrand du Fortunesa and Scarlett Collins, ex-tutor and ex-girlfriend respectively, in the same room. Together. Doing the talking thing. He was so going to get it in the neck for this. Not literally though. Well he hoped not. He had seen Vlad's fangs in action and it wasn't pretty. Although it was kind of cool...

"Robin." He almost jumped at the mention of his name from Scarlett's lips. His friend was looking at him inquiringly. "Perhaps, you could make us a pot of tea?"

Robin sniggered. "I don't think Bertrand drinks tea." He attempted to give Scarlett a condescending look but instead found himself backing away at her fierce glare. "I'll just get some soy blood then." Even as Robin left, he knew Vlad would be snarling with displeasure at the thought of leaving Scarlett and Bertrand alone but Robin figured that Vlad was being overcautious. After all, how much damage could Bertrand do when he was stuck in a cage?

* * *

As soon as Robin closed the door behind him, Scarlett turned back round to Bertrand with a mischievous smile. "Now, tell me how to get you out." She could have sworn that surprise flickered across his gorgeous face for just a moment before it was replaced with disdain.

He stepped closer to the bars of light. "How is your hand?"

The question threw her off-guard. "What?" She must have looked like an idiot as she blinked slowly at this unexpected development in the conversation. Why on earth would he want to have a chat about hands when she was offering to free him?

"Your hand," Bertrand continued patiently, "The one you injured in the lecture hall. How is it?"

Scarlett automatically glanced down at the hand in question. He was inquiring after her injuries? It was actually rather sweet of him to remember, especially given what had happened to him that night. "It's ok. Thank you for asking." Her gaze fell upon the loosely fitted shirt that he was wearing. A shudder went through her at the memory of the scarring to his chest. "And you?" She struggled to phrase her question delicately, "Are you -?"

Bertrand interrupted her. "May I?" His tone was polite, she would even go as far to say that it was laced with mild concern. He held out his own hand, his long fingers skimming dangerously close to the barrier of light. The movement made her flinch; what if he burned himself?

She looked up from his fingertips to find him watching her, a look of expectation on his face. She realised suddenly what he was asking of her. He wanted to inspect her hand for himself. She shook her head firmly. "No, really it's ok." The glint of something close to hurt in his eyes made her feel like she had just kicked a puppy. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him that it wasn't that she didn't trust him, it was just... if she did what he asked then he would see what he had done to herself. How could he miss the healing wounds on the inside of her wrist? The marks that indicated just close her blade had come to touching the artery. He would judge her, find her wanting and for some reason she didn't want this vampire with the sad eyes and strangely noble demeanour to do that.

"Give me your hand." This time it was more of an order than a request. His eyes were darkening slightly as if he were getting annoyed with her.

Stubbornly, Scarlett shook her head. "No." Her voice came out sharper than intended.

Bertrand tilted his head slightly to the side and studied her for a moment. "Give me your hand now." His voice deepened, it echoed off the walls and without even thinking about it Scarlett found herself moving forward, slipping her arm through the UV bars and placing her much smaller hand within his. As soon as her palm made contact with his slightly cooler skin, she realised what she had done but it was too late to pull back as Bertrand's fingers closed around hers.

Bertrand's smirk was unmistakable. "Breathers like you always respond to authority."

Scarlett glared at him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? However, she didn't have time to call him up on it as he began inspecting her hand. She found herself holding her breath as his eyes roved critically over the healing flesh, his touch as clinical as any doctor's. She prayed that the long draping sleeve of her top would serve its intended purpose of concealing the damage inflicted on her arm. He looked up at her, his vivid blue eyes burning into hers. "Like you said," he rubbed a thumb gently over the new, shiny skin. "Healing perfectly."

Scarlett exhaled a shaky breath in relief.

"Although," he kept his penetrating gaze focused on her face as his fingers slipped under her sleeve, forcing the material to move up her arm, exposing the vicious marks on her skin, "these are rather worrying."

Scarlett tried to pull back but his grip was firm. She could have stepped back in an effort to force him to drop her hand but she didn't want to bring him into contact with the UV light. It seemed, unless she was prepared to hurt him, she had to keep her hand exactly where it was. "Bertrand, don't!" She could feel the hot tear of shame and frustration prickle against her eyelids as he lowered his eyes to examine the scars on her arm. "It's not what you think," she could hear the panic in her own voice, no doubt her racing heartbeat had already betrayed her lies, "I'm just really..." The words died in her throat as Bertrand raised his eyebrows.

"I'm over four centuries old," the softness of his voice didn't disguise his irritation, "Don't think that you can fool me regarding injuries. I know a deliberately inflicted cut when I see one. I know," his fingers traced the deep lines on her wrist, "when a blade has been sharpened to precision and slashed against the flesh." His eyes were full of something close to concern as they once again met hers. "How long has he been feeding on you?"

It took Scarlett a moment to find her voice and when she did, her reply came out almost as a croak. "Vlad?" She struggled to clear her throat before speaking again. "You think Vlad did this? To feed on me?"

Only the slightest curl of the vampire's mouth gave away his amusement at her horrified reaction. "It wouldn't be the first time that he has compelled a pet to make a donation."

Nausea, at the implications of what Bertrand had just said, crashed over Scarlett. All of a sudden, breathing became difficult, her chest felt constrained, her heart once more was aching with pain. She would have pulled away from the source of this new anguish except Bertrand's hand seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright at this very moment. Taking a deep breath, she was pleased to hear her voice come out steady and firm. "Not me. Not ever."

The defiance in her voice seemed to almost impress him. "Self-inflicted then." He let go of her hand slowly, his touch lingering against her skin, as if he guessed that she needed time to regain her balance. "It would explain a lot."

Covering up her arm again, Scarlett shot Bertrand a defensive look. "What do you mean by that?"

Bertrand's mouth twisted with a contemptuous sneer. "Breathers always have an ulterior motive." Then his face changed swiftly into a perfectly composed mask "The switch is over there."He nodded towards a desk on the other side of the room.

Scarlett stared at him for what felt like several long minutes but she knew that, in reality, it must have been only a few seconds. Bertrand's eyes were completely clear of any emotion, of course his mask wasn't going to slip; he had centuries to perfect that cool, disinterested facade. Conceding defeat, she began to move across the room towards the desk.

**Chapter 52 teaser**

'_Have you ever met a breather that you didn't want to bite?'_


	54. Chapter 52

_**I feel I need to apologise for the length of this fic! It's gotten absolutely massive and there is still so much to happen yet! I assure you that it does have an ending and I'm not going to keep going on forever. I hope you bear with me in the meantime!**_

_**Suffering a touch of writer's block this week. Blaming canon Vlad and his murderous ways. My heart is still broken from last Monday's episode *sniffles* **_

_**Thank you for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 52**

Robin drummed his fingers anxiously against the surface of the kitchen table as he sat in between Scarlett and Bertrand. That was the last time he would ever make her a cup of tea, he thought bitterly. All he had done was disappear for a few minutes and in time it took to boil a kettle, Scarlett had just gone and freed a vampire so dangerous that the Chosen One, the most powerful vampire of them all, had considered it necessary to keep him locked in a cage. For someone supposedly so clever, Scarlett could be extraordinarily thick. Just because Vlad was breather-friendly didn't mean that all vampires were like that. She was lucky that Bertrand hadn't ripped her throat out. Admittedly, the vampire seemed to be on his best behaviour, he hadn't so much as flashed his fangs since he had been released but that could be a ruse. He could be waiting for their guard to slip and before you knew it you would be sucked dry like a carton of juice on a hot summer day.

Robin glanced from one side of the table, where Scarlett was serenely sipping her tea, to the other, where Bertrand was nursing a bottle of soy blood with a pained expression. Was he the only one who found the silence incredibly awkward? Judging from the amount of staring at each other that these two were doing, it seemed they were too busy to notice that nobody had spoken in over ten minutes. Was he really the only one panicking about Vlad's reaction to all of this? Given his previous actions, it was clear that Bertrand didn't seem to have much interest in self-preservation, at least not when it came to the Chosen One. As for Scarlett – well he had already established that she was following the fine traditions of being a blonde. No, all of the blame for this ridiculous situation would be placed on Robin's shoulders since he was the only one with functioning brain cells. Great. Just _great_. He groaned aloud and banged his head down onto the table.

* * *

It hadn't been particularly difficult to track her brother down. All the new guards made it even easier to keep tabs on his whereabouts, although Ingrid doubted that had been his intention. When she found him in the library, he was surrounded by volumes upon volumes of books with titles on telepathy, the dreamworld and oneirokinesis. An interesting choice of reading material, she would have to keep a careful eye on that. After the events of the Halloween Ball, Ingrid was aware more than ever, that her brother was concealing his powers from her.

"I've decided that I'm going to return to Oxford." She sank gracefully into a nearby armchair and studied her brother's reaction. The mixture of horror and surprise on his face was quite amusing. He was, of course, still repentant for the harsh words that he had thrown at her the other night. That alone would make him more amendable to her wishes. It would be fun to watch him squirm with discomfort, make him bite his tongue, bend him to her will. Guilt was such an unfortunate affliction, Ingrid was grateful that she wasn't weak enough to suffer from it.

Vlad set aside his current book. He was struggling to choose his words carefully. "I would have thought ...," he paused for a moment. "With everything that has happened, Oxford isn't safe."

Ingrid nodded in agreement. "Yes, however," She leant forward and whispered loudly in a mock-conspiratorial manner, "it's where all the action is." She took spiteful pleasure in crushing the glimmer of relief that had entered her brother's eyes upon hearing her first word.

Vlad sighed heavily. "I just don't want you getting hurt again," he began in protest.

Ingrid cut him off. "As your number two, I should be at your side." Her eyes, a few shades lighter with hints of violet, met his in a ferocious glare. "Unless, I don't merit the position." Her smile was pure malevolence as she gave him a few moments to absorb what she was implying. Watching Vlad struggle to choose between his guilt for hurting her and his suspicions about her true motivation was superb entertainment. Especially when she knew he would capitulate to her in the end. As a look of resignation settled on her brother's face, Ingrid fixed him with a calculating smile. "So, what it's to be Your Highness?"

* * *

Scarlett gave Robin a soothing pat on the back. Robin's only response was a muffled grunt of despair. "Oh come on Robin!" Scarlett shook his shoulder gently. "I promise that you can blame it all on me. You can say I forced you into it, that I wrestled you to the ground and ... I don't know... ripped the keys out of your jacket?"

Robin temporarily lifted his head to glare at her before slumping back down again onto the table. "Not helpful," he mumbled into his folded arms.

Scarlett sighed softly and turned her attention back to the vampire sitting across from her. It was slightly unnerving to find him watching her with a contemplative look on his handsome features. What could Bertrand possibly find interesting about her? Apart from her brief entanglement with his boss? Or perhaps, master was a more appropriate word for Vlad's status to Bertrand. _Master._ The word made her blood boil, it wasn't right for Vlad to have so much power over another person's life. She didn't care if he was some special vampire leader; being the Chosen One didn't justify his mistreatment of Bertrand or worse still Bertrand's calm acceptance of Vlad's cruelty. She tried to avert her gaze from the blackness of the bite mark on his throat. Just looking at it made her wince in sympathy; from the little knowledge she had of Bertrand, she guessed sympathy wasn't a sentiment that the vampire had much use for.

Bertrand took a small sip of his soy blood before speaking in a disapproving tone. "For a pet, you're not very obedient." His vivid blue eyes met hers in an unspoken challenge.

Scarlett bristled with annoyance. "I am not a pet," she said firmly with just a hint of anger. "I am a person, with my own thoughts and feelings, with my own opinions. I don't belong to anyone."

Bertrand smiled condescendingly. "If that's what you prefer to think." He shrugged casually as if he were dismissing a child's tantrum rather than a conversation with an equal.

Scarlett couldn't help scowling at him. Bertrand's only response was to take another sip of his soy blood. It was extremely irritating how he brought conversations to such an abrupt end. She wondered if it was always going to be this difficult to speak to him; it would certainly make for a frustrating working relationship. She frowned fiercely again, this time it was directed at her own thoughts. She hadn't decided yet what exactly she was going to do about the research project. After seeing vampires in action, more specifically Vlad, she wasn't sure if helping him was the right thing to do. He talked about peace and co-existence but he wasn't adverse to hurting people when it would work in his favour.

Of course, she could be getting ahead of herself; it was entirely possible that Vlad no longer had any need for her. After all, Bertrand was supposed to be some sort of vampire expert, no doubt his talents would include acting as the vampire historian that Vlad needed so desperately. Her frown faded as she once again studied the brooding vampire in front of her. He was four hundred years old; imagine four centuries of living in this world! All the things he must have seen and done in that time, the changes he must have witnessed, the people he must have met... oh but he was practically a walking, talking history book! The prospect of getting to know him, to learn from him was simply too exciting an opportunity to pass up.

"I think it's time you returned to the cage." Robin sat up straight in his chair and gave Bertrand his best 'Captain of the Rugby Team' look.

Bertrand's face was decidedly unimpressed. Robin's glower might be very effective at motivating a bunch of hungover teenagers to run around a muddy field but it certainly didn't work on Vlad's former tutor. Despite this, Bertrand slowly rose to his feet at the same time as Robin, an indication that he would return to his prison without putting up a fight. He cast a pointed look at Scarlett, "Some of us still have to obey the Chosen One."

Scarlett's stomach lurched at his words. She found herself scrambling out of her chair and reaching over the table to catch his sleeve in her fingers. She didn't really mind that he hissed at her in warning; the poor pet probably wasn't used to people touching him without malice. She would just have to do her best to show him that she wasn't going to hurt him. "May I visit you tomorrow?" Gazing up into Bertrand's face, she thought she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"You're asking permission this time?" he replied drily.

Scarlett nodded. "If you don't mind."

They both ignored Robin's snort of disbelief.

Bertrand appeared to be mulling over her request, a guarded look creeping onto his face. He finally answered, "The afternoon would be best." He gave her a curt nod of his head, an oddly courteous gesture, before turning his back on her and moving towards the cellar.

* * *

"We just have to keep our focus." Dave didn't seem to do nervous or scared. If anything his primary emotion at the finding their cells empty had been frustration. He seemed completely remorseless about what they had done to their prisoners. It didn't seem to worry him that they could be found out for their mistreatment of the professor or for how they had betrayed Thomas. Instead, Dave was trying to figure out who was responsible for the break in and how they had gotten away with it. Just a week ago, they would have placed the blame solely on Vlad but now they were aware of this mysterious, religious group. An organisation which had funded the professor's research into the source, whose members carried argentilium weapons, a group which had supposedly been involved in the supernatural for centuries.

In a weird way, Jonno almost wished he had Dave's nerve. The older slayer was completely intent on achieving the objective that he had been set by his superior officers. He didn't care what price he had to pay or who he had to hurt. Jonno wasn't entirely sure that he was like that. He didn't want to harm anyone. According to Dave that made him weak. Jonno supposed that the older slayer had a point. After all, if the torture of one woman could save the entire world from suffering under the regime of Vlad Dracula then how could Jonno hesitate? If vampires ruled the world, there would be countless victims of torture and murder and it would all be the Guild's fault. Because they were the ones who failed to protect humanity. Because Jonno didn't have the stomach to do what was necessary. Because he had been too weak.

* * *

One of the nicest things about having a girlfriend at the same university as you was that you always had a spare bed for the night. A bed with fresh, clean sheets and a duvet which smelt girly but nice. Not to mention the perk of getting a hot cup of coffee in the morning before Charlie went out on her daily run. Robin knew he was a lucky man. He poked his head over the duvet to watch Charlie tidy away her tutorial papers. "Come to bed."

Charlie deliberately ignored him. It was entirely possible she might be having a little sulk over the whole Bertrand/Scarlett thing. It really wasn't his fault if Scarlett decided that she wanted to visit a homicidal, centuries old vampire. Robin had done the sensible thing and accompanied her there. It had become increasingly clear, over the course of their secret trip to the kebab van that Scarlett wasn't going to simply eat her chips and toddle home. She would have gone to the Banbury mansion with or without Robin's permission. At least his way meant that she had a dedicated slayer watching out for her neck. Between Vlad and Charlie, he was really getting quite miffed; he hadn't asked for this responsibility, he certainly didn't want it. Playing gaoler to Bertrand wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he offered to assist Vlad in his quest for world domination. Besides, Scarlett did sort of have a point about how badly Vlad was treating Bertrand. The former tutor also seemed considerably less sinister when you actually sat down at a table with him and shared a drop of soy blood. Well, tea in Robin's case, Scarlett had snatched the bottle of soy blood from him and told him to drink his tea in a decidedly mumsy manner.

Robin gave Charlie his most enticing grin. "I'm cold. Come here and warm me up." He successfully dodged the pen Charlie threw at him. "Seriously, I'm freezing here!" Charlie gave him a scornful look. Robin's grin only widened. It was time to resort to dirty tactics. "Come on baby, light my fire," he sang completely out of tune, with a salacious waggle of his eyebrows. "Try to set the night on fire. Oh yeah, come on baby, light my fire. Try to set the night on -"

Charlie groaned in exaggerated pain and placed her hands over her ears. "Fine! Just stop making that terrible noise."

As soon as she sat down on the edge of the bed, Robin flung his arms around her in a bear hug and dragged her down beside him. Charlie followed him willingly, barely having time to kick off her bedroom slippers. Robin pressed a soft kiss against her cheek. "You know most girls would be thrilled to have a boyfriend who serenades them with romantic music."

Charlie began to wriggle under the duvet. "Oh yeah? Well, most lads aren't off serving the Dark Lord of Vampires."

Robin grimaced at the sharpness of her tone. For some reason, Charlie had never really taken to Vlad and it seemed that his best friend's tiny temper tantrum over Bertrand's return had only made things worse. He supposed that this was inevitable; after all didn't every man have at least one friend that their girlfriend hated beyond all reason? He knew this from both his brothers and his rugby team mates. Even his Mum wasn't immune. She always wore a disapproving look when Dad went off golfing with George from the Duck and Dog. The best thing to do would be to ignore Charlie but then again he didn't really like the prospect of arguing about it at a later date anyway. Vlad's friendship was important to him, Charlie needed to understand that.

"Vlad's my mate." So much for trying to choose his words carefully; that particular statement had come out a lot more confrontationally than he would have liked. He winced as he waited for his girlfriend to respond just as fiercely.

Much to his surprise, Charlie reached up a hand to gently stroke his face. "I know Robin." She sounded resigned rather than annoyed.

Turning his head slightly, Robin pressed his mouth against her fingers. "Aren't you going to tell me that I can't see him? That he's a bad influence?" According to Ian and Paul, they should have reached the shouty stage of this discussion by now but then again his Charlie wasn't like the vacuous bimbos that his brothers tried so desperately to pull.

Charlie sighed heavily against the bare skin of his chest. "No Robin," her voice was firm. "I'm absolutely not going to do that. That would be counterproductive. The more I warn you against him, the more you'll want to be his friend. Reverse psychology. It's pretty basic stuff." She began to trail kisses down the length of his throat. "I do understand, you know, how much he means to you."

She stretched her body out against his in a way that indicated the conversation was most definitely over. Robin moaned slightly and pulled her tighter against him. Yeah, he was a very lucky man indeed.

* * *

It wasn't often these nights that the Count received a knock on his coffin lid especially one from his son and heir. The Count took the opportunity, as he folded up his newspaper with deliberate slowness, to discreetly study his son's appearance. He noted with dismay that there was a firm set to Vladdy's jaw, something which always bode ill. The boy clearly had a bat in his top hat that he wanted to discuss with his father. Nobody could blame the Count for being apprehensive. Vladdy's moods had been somewhat unpredictable lately, he seemed to swing rapidly from sulky and bad tempered to something dangerously approaching happy and all within the time it took to have a little snooze in the crypt. It was cause for concern; the last time Vladdy had been so up and down, it had all been the fault of that slayer girl. The last thing the vampire world needed in these difficult times was for their leader to get all moonstruck over some worthless female. The first time had been bad enough for several centuries and young Vladimir hadn't even been crowned at that stage.

"Dad," the younger vampire hesitated for a moment before continuing, the words were obviously sticking in his throat. "I need your advice."

The Count raised a cynical eyebrow. "Is that so?" He stretched languorously before settling back in his coffin. He didn't bother to hide his gleeful smirk from Vladimir even though he knew it would set the boy's fangs on edge. The mighty Chosen One still had to come to his father for advice. It was immensely gratifying to know that his experience still counted for something in this new world that his son was determined to forge.

To his slight disappointment, Vladimir ignored the gloating smile and began to pace the room. It was a sign that he was thinking. The Count hated when his son thought about things, it generally ended badly. Take that ridiculous scheme - Blood Addicts Anonymous. So what if a few vampires overindulged themselves now and again; it wasn't as if they were going to run out of breathers anytime soon. They were practically overrun with the filthy creatures. Vladimir also seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him; another bad sign. The Count ran his tongue across his fangs as he watched his boy; he hoped Vladdy hadn't found out about his most recent indiscretion. It wasn't the Count's fault; some breathers practically threw themselves at his fangs.

It wasn't exactly a relief when his son finally spoke only to ask a ridiculous question. "Have you ever met a breather that you didn't want to bite?"

The Count immediately cackled with laughter, "No. Of course not." That's what breathers were for. Not that you would think it from the way Vladdy acted.

Vladimir rolled his eyes. "Not what I meant Dad." He continued to pace up and down. "I mean have you ever come across a breather who didn't smell right?" The Count opened his mouth to reply but his son got in there first. "No, not like Renfield! I mean a breather who seems ordinary but they just don't smell like food. There is this really weird lack of desire to bite. You can sense the blood just pulsating under the skin," Was it the Count's imagination or did his Vladdy's eyes darken slightly as he spoke these words? "But it doesn't appeal to you. It's like there's something... not right about it. Like something inside is yelling at you not to eat them." Vladimir had stopped pacing now, his eyes had returned to their usual shade of clear blue and they were almost pleading with the Count for answers. "It's like you're being warned off," he continued lamely.

It was all that the Count could do not to stare aghast at his son. Clearly, judging from the worried expression on Vladimir's face, he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his true emotions. He had heard of such creatures, you didn't bite around for almost seven centuries without learning about the dangers, but how had his precious son ... The prospect of Vladimir coming into contact with one of _them_... If he knew, oh stakes and garlic, if Vladdy knew what their blood could do. The thought was unbearable; Vladdy could never find out, even though he finally seemed to have accepted his responsibilities as the Chosen One, he could never be trusted with that sort of knowledge.

"I think," the Count tried to phrase his response carefully; he didn't want to raise his son's suspicions, "you should listen to your instinct. Don't sink your fangs into the unknown." He retrieved his newspaper and began flicking through the papers in an attempt to signal that he was bored of the conversation.

Disbelief was written all over his Vladdy's face as he laughed sarcastically in reply. "Wait? The Prince of Darkness is telling me _not_ to bite a breather?" He fixed the Count with an incredulous stare.

The Count attempted a casual shrug. "Yes. Granted, it is not my usual advice." He tried to keep his tone dismissive, disinterested even. "If your instincts are telling you not to feed off a particular breather then you should listen to them. It's very simple Vladdy, I do wish you had bothered to pay attention during your Blood Tests. Breathers are such sickly creatures, always coming down with new diseases." He grimaced with distaste. "We don't need our Grand High Vampire to fall ill with some new fangled form of blood poisoning. Now, do you mind?" He gestured to The Vampire Times, "Scarlett Corpuscle has some very intriguing problems to answer in this edition." He pretended to be engrossed in the agony aunt section until his son had safely left the room.

**Chapter 53 teaser**

'_Even the most loving and attentive of pets needed to be kept in their place_.'


	55. Chapter 53

_**Wow, thank you for the incredible response to the last chapter. It's amazing to know that you're still reading and enjoying the story. Fantastic ending to series 4 and series 5 has been confirmed! Woo! **_

_**With thanks to HopeCoppice whose Blood Droplet No.11 'Party' inspired the reference to Charles II.  
**_

_**To the Guest reviewer on the last chapter – I think it's cool that you feel so passionately about something that I have written but I'm not sure what sort of lesson Vlad could teach Scarlett? I didn't want to set up Scarlett and Vlad as the ideal couple and I certainly don't want Scarlett to be some sort of perfect girlfriend because I find characters who are flawed and mess up much more interesting. I can only hope that Scarlett will redeem herself later on in the fic. Thanks for reviewing! : )**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 53**

As light began to creep over the horizon, Tamara pulled her curtains closed and collapsed onto her bed. He was gone. Her angel of vengeance was gone. That stupid lecture had taken place five nights ago but it felt like weeks. She couldn't be certain about what had taken place that night but he had warned her that it would be dangerous.

She missed him. His absence was a physical ache in her chest. He was going to change her life. He was becoming her life. He had all the answers; he could have wiped away all of her problems. He would have made everything perfect and shiny again, the way her life was supposed to be. She had no idea what had happened to him, whether he had perished in the fire that had broken out in the History Faculty or if he had escaped. She had no way of contacting him; she didn't even know his name! He was just her mysterious, beautiful angel.

It wasn't meant to be like this, Tamara wasn't meant to be on her own, she was meant to glitter, to be the centre of attention, she was meant to be adored and petted and that what he would have given her. It just wasn't fair.

* * *

Bertrand gave Scarlett a quizzical look as he sat down at the kitchen table. Picking up his fork, he poked delicately at the meat on his plate. "Steak?"

The blonde breather gave him a reassuring smile. "The finest fillet steak, bought from Davy's. Lovely man. He's a traditional butcher in the covered market." Taking a sip from her mug of tea, she glided into the chair next to him. "I thought you would prefer it medium-rare."

Bertrand stared incredulously down at the steak. It had been barely grilled, just enough to seal the flavours inside. Blood was seeping out of the meat, the redness spilling across the white of his plate made his fangs ache with longing. Hell and damnation, it was so deliciously tempting.

"Don't worry; I haven't put garlic on it." Scarlett nudged the plate towards him. "Come on Bertrand, you need to build up your strength."

Lifting his eyes from the succulent offering on his plate, Bertrand took a moment to consider the breather before him. Her face was entirely open, all shining sincerity and a soft, sweet smile. Ugh! She was so _good_. At least, the last one had been sneaky and manipulative. Erin hadn't been particularly good at it but at least she had tried. He doubted this one could manipulate her way out of a blood bag. Still, appearances could be misleading. He took his time, taking a deep, distrustful sniff of the meat before slowly slicing it. Oh but blood and garlic it tasted sensational! Within minutes, he had polished off the remains, he even found himself licking his lips to savour the flavours. He found the blonde watching him approvingly, an almost maternal look on her face.

"Did you ...?" He gestured at the empty plate.

A low chuckle escaped her red lips. "No, I'm afraid not. I tend to incinerate my meat. It's Roberts who you should be thanking." She took another sip of her tea. "Fancy some dessert?"

Bertrand deliberately let his gaze trail over her throat. "Depends what is on offer," he smirked.

The breather peered over her mug at him. "Bertrand, behave." She gave him a mildly offended look. "We both know I am off the menu. I've read that contract and I understood the terms perfectly."

Hmm, that was mildly intriguing. Why would she have gone to all the bother of finding and reading the blood oath? She must be up to something. Well, at least it showed some initiative. Most breathers and even vampires for that matter tended to neglect the paperwork. That was something Bertrand could never be accused of; he always paid attention to detail.

She rose from the table. "I'm afraid, it's not very vampy. It's just chocolate ice-cream." She pulled out a small container from the freezer and set it down on the table. "But they are a local company and I thought you might like..." Her voice trailed off as he practically snatched the tub away from her.

Bertrand didn't have many guilty secrets, mainly because guilt was a self-indulgent and wasteful emotion but he did have very strong preferences for some foods which really he would prefer to keep private. Ice cream was one such preference. From the moment he had first tasted it in the court of Charles II, Bertrand had loved the creamy coldness and thick rich texture. Over the centuries, he had acquired quite a taste for it, a taste which had not always been easy to satisfy. Most modern ice-cream was disappointing, he could taste the cheapness of the ingredients but this stuff was ... mmm oh but this was quality, this was _traditional _ice cream. "I prefer vanilla." Despite his words, he gave her a small smile of gratitude before sinking his fangs into the cold treat.

He hadn't quite figured out what exactly he was going to do with the blonde. He found her behaviour towards him bewildering. He couldn't recall the last breather who willingly served him a meal, unless you counted Renfield and the disgusting gloop that imbecile had served up in the Dracula residence. Clearly, this breather could be a valuable ally, one who would argue his case to Vlad. Despite their recent disagreement, the Dracula boy could still be sentimental enough to be swayed by her pretty face. That wasn't to mean Bertrand was going to roll over for her. No, Vlad may have been lenient on the blonde but Bertrand had no such intentions. Even the most loving and attentive of pets needed to be kept in their place. However, for now, he would hedge his bets and play nicely.

* * *

Father James leapt to his feet as the door clicked open. Father Gabriel emerged from the room, his usually serene face was taut with exhaustion, the colour of his eyes a few shades lighter than usual. He greeted Father James with a tired smile. "She's on the mend." He spoke quietly; there was a hoarse quality to his voice that the Irish priest had never heard before.

Father James sighed deeply with relief. A rush of hot wetness filled his eyes as he grasped Father Gabriel's shoulder in gratitude. "Thank you." He surveyed the priest's appearance with concern. "It must have cost you."

Father Gabriel shrugged. "A decade or two. It is of no consequence." Coming from anyone else that would have sounded like false modesty but Father James knew what the other priest was willing to sacrifice to ease the suffering of others. "You may go in." Father Gabriel gestured at the door which was still ajar. "Just for a few minutes."

* * *

As the haunting strains of Ave Maria faded away, Scarlett pulled out her iPod earphones and ran a loving hand over the book that she had just finished a chapter of. Joseph Lister – what a man! It was inspiring to think that a surgeon had made such a difference by standing up for something he knew was right but couldn't prove. He was definitely one of the historical figures she would most like to meet. Unlike Galen. Especially after reading about the horrific public demonstrations he performed with animals. Poor little creatures. Scarlett couldn't help the shudder that went through her when she recalled the text describing Galen's exploits. It was a powerful reminder of her reasons for not studying medicine despite her headmistress' efforts to persuade her otherwise.

Glancing at the display on her mobile phone, Scarlett realised she didn't have much time left before the drinks reception for the Scholars' Feast began. She began to pack away her books and papers, taking care to slip bookmarks between the pages of her library books and capping her fountain pen so the pen didn't stain the inside of her handbag - again. Taking out her mirror, she smiled slightly at its cover. A black and white photograph of Marilyn Monroe; her favourite screen idol. How she wished she could be just even half as beautiful as the beguiling Hollywood star. It only took a few seconds to carefully reapply her lipstick but it was amazing the effect that a bit of make-up could have on her self-esteem. She didn't really feel herself without her customary splash of colour. Once, she was satisfied with her lipstick, she zipped up her handbag and slipped her feet into her new satin heels. They needed breaking in before the ball and tonight was the perfect opportunity. Mainly because she would spend most of it sitting down.

Softly humming Ave Maria under her breath, she stepped out into the aisle and came face to face with Vlad. Yelping with alarm, she stepped backwards and knocked over a couple of books stacked up on her desk. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand over her pounding heart as she glared up at him. Trust a vampire to go skulking around in the shadows. She watched suspiciously as he knelt down to pick up the books she had so clumsily scattered. His cape fanned out elegantly around him as he descended down on to his knees. His aftershave, crisp and clean, assaulted her senses, it only added to the tingling sensations sweeping over her body. Scarlett had to fight against the urge to throw herself at him, to wrap her arms around his neck and press her lips against his. To make him see that she wasn't so worthless after all.

Vlad smirked up at her. "The Great Filth?" He held up a small book with a grey and red cover. "How promising."

Scarlett snatched the book out of his hand. "It's about improving standards in public health and sanitation during the Victorian era!" she snapped, her cheeks flushing pink at just the slightest touch of his cold fingers against hers. Why did he have to be so devastatingly gorgeous? Why did his smile have to make her blush so much? Why was she so weak when it came to resisting him? He was just a boy, an immature, idiotic boy regardless of his vampire status.

Vlad rose slowly from his crouching position. "These are all History of Medicine books." He set the rest of the books back on the desk before turning to give her an inquiring look.

"It's what I'm meant to be studying." Scarlett tried to make her voice as cold as possible. She needed to get away from him before emotion overcame her control. She would not embarrass herself by breaking down in front of him. Again. Once was bad enough. "Now, if you would excuse me?" She pointedly gestured at him to get out of her way.

He didn't move. Instead, he was slowly looking her up and down, an almost appreciative gleam in his eye. "Slightly overdressed for the library tonight," he commented casually as if she hadn't spoken only seconds before.

Self-consciously, Scarlett tugged at her academic robes, trying to wrap them more tightly around her body. The neckline of her dress had seemed modest when she had tried it on earlier. No, he had to be mocking her. After what he had said before? _'Why should I settle for that?'_ The contempt in his voice, the hatred in his eyes... She could feel the tears starting to prickle at the corners of her eyes. Damn, she needed to get away from him _now_. "Scholars' Feast. I'm going to be late," she replied tersely. "Now, get out of my way." She tried not to flinch as his eyes met hers, tried even harder not to soften as hurt and confusion swept over his face. Then he was gone with only the slightest stirring of air to indicate that he had ever been there.

* * *

Robin flung open his door; the panicked expression on his face giving way to a beaming grin when he saw his best friend standing there. "Vlad!" He gestured for him to step inside. "Thank bloody hell you're here!"

Vlad barely had time to raise his eyebrows at Robin's enthusiasm before he was pulled rather impatiently into the messy chaos of his friend's room. Glancing around at the piles of clothes, books and takeaway boxes, Vlad couldn't help but wonder how Robin had managed to generate such a mess so quickly after Mrs Branagh's last visit.

"Please say you know how to tie this?" Robin was holding out his bow tie with a look of pleading. "I need to wear it for the Scholars' Feast tonight and Charlie hasn't come back from her committee meeting and Scar..." Robin's eyes widened in horror as he realised whose name he had just been about to say, "Er... everyone else is busy."

Vlad took the bow tie and began to deftly arrange it around Robin's neck. "You don't hang around the Prince of Darkness without picking up a few tricks." His fingers brushed against Robin's pulse point and he had to fight against his darker impulses to ignore the temptation of Robin's delicious blood throbbing beneath the fragile skin. He had been in such a hurry to return to Oxford that he had skipped breakfast. Not the wisest of decisions. "How come you're going to the Scholars' Feast? I thought you weren't one?" He straightened the bow tie and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Awesome. Thanks Vlad." Peering over Vlad's shoulder, Robin winked at himself in the mirror. "Oh I'm an Exhibiter." He grinned at the blank look on Vlad's face. "It just means I almost got a distinction in my first year exams. So in recognition of my braininess I get some book coupons and free food." He patted his stomach fondly. "And as an impoverished student I am so up for free food."

Vlad rolled his eyes. "Does Oxford just make up words for everything?"

Robin picked up his academic robes and began shrugging his way into them. "Yeah, that's pretty much what we do," he answered cheerfully. His smile slipped away as he noticed Vlad's glower. "Fancy a pint later? We could always head to the Turf when I'm finished. They let you toast marshmallows on the outdoor fires."

Vlad forced himself to smile half-heartedly. "Tomorrow, maybe. I've got a prisoner to catch up with." He watched with suspicion as Robin shifted uneasily from one foot to another at the mention of the vampire in his cellar. Vlad's voice hardened by the slightest fraction. "I do still have a prisoner, don't I?"

Robin's face cleared and he nodded vigorously. "Yeah."

"Hmm." Vlad continued to stare at Robin. "Then why are you wearing that look?"

Robin immediately became defensive. "What look? I'm not wearing a look!" He glanced at his watch with an exaggerated frown. "Oh no! Look at the time. I'm going to be late for my free food." He gave Vlad a look of wide-eyed innocence before sidling towards the door.

Vlad calmly stepped in front of Robin's exit. "What happened?"

* * *

The chef's asparagus and pea soup was usually one of Scarlett's favourite dishes. Tonight, however, she could barely taste the delicate flavours on her tongue. Despite being surrounded by laughter and chatter, all she could think about was Vlad. It felt like her heart had been ripped open again. His smirk taunted her every time she closed her eyes even if it was just for a second. That spark of attraction, a spark that only he seemed able to ignite, was still burning inside her. She hated herself for the way that she still wanted him, it was like her body was simply refusing to acknowledge her mind's insistence that she was better off without him.

His hair was shorter. He must have gotten it cut when he was back in Transylvania. She had liked it longer, the way it fell into his eyes was a perfect excuse to touch him, run her fingers through its dark silkiness. Scarlett ripped her bread roll apart and began buttering it with unnecessary viciousness. She had no right to be thinking such thoughts about his hair. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore, as much as it hurt to remember that, she had to keep reminding herself. Vlad had made his feelings perfectly clear, he wasn't interested in her, he didn't care for her, she had been nothing more than a convenience and an unsatisfying one at that. Yet, knowing all this, _still_ didn't stop her heart aching for him.

* * *

He should have gone home, Vlad knew that, he should have left Winterville and returned to the Banbury mansion but he couldn't face it. Not yet. Instead, he had elected for hanging around in the cold, damp shadows, waiting and watching for his girlfriend – no ex-girlfriend to leave the Grand Hall. He had given up trying to convince himself that it was purely out of concern, that he just wanted to make sure that she was safe as she walked the short distance between the Grand Hall and her halls of residence. He just wanted to see her again. He had been so full of anger and hurt that he hadn't realised how much he had missed her over the past few nights. How much he had missed everything about her; her warmth, her scent, her taste, her voice...

He thought that it would be easy to forget her, to screw the pain away; it wasn't as if she was the only woman in the world. There were plenty of others. Others who would satisfy his every sexual need, who would overlook the less palatable aspects of his unlife, who wouldn't dare to challenge his authority. But he wanted Scarlett. He wanted her back so much that it physically hurt inside. An unbeating heart shouldn't be capable of this much pain.

Noise and light poured into the silent quad for a moment as two figures exited the Grand Hall. Vlad's fists clenched around his cape as he instantly recognised their identities. In the moonlight, Scarlett's hair gleamed softly, her red lipstick seemed darker against the paleness of her face, her academic robes billowed in the soft breeze revealing the pretty dress beneath. Vlad was no expert in women's fashion but he could certainly appreciate the way the dress flattered Scarlett's considerable curves. He watched with jealousy as Robin made some remark that caused Scarlett's laughter to ring out across the quad.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting upon his return to Oxford but it certainly wasn't this. Scarlett seemed happier without him, she seemed content in the library earlier and now she was giggling at Robin's jokes like she didn't have a care in the world. He couldn't understand it; for Lucifer's sake, in that shared dream she had let him get close to her, much closer than she had ever allowed him in real life. Such sexual activity may not mean much to some people but he knew that it meant something to her. Yet, she had been positively glacial towards him when he had appeared in the library. Her manner had been so cold, her eyes, Vlad shivered slightly, those beautiful sapphire eyes had been full of contempt, loathing even.

Unable to stand it any longer, Vlad shot off into the night air. With a heavy heart, he landed softly outside his Banbury residence. He had been putting off this moment for most of the night but he knew that sooner or later, he was going to have to face what he had done. The vampire in the flickering cage was waiting patiently for him, a solitary figure standing to attention against the harsh lines of light. Vlad had to force himself to step forwards, to meet Bertrand du Fortunesa's eyes as they came face to face, separated only by the UV barrier.

His former tutor gazed at him with an inscrutable expression on his face. "You realise now, what you have done."

Almost choking on his pain and regret, Vlad nodded slowly. "Yes."

**Chapter 54 teaser**

'_If we fail, humanity won't have an existence worth breathing for.'_


	56. Chapter 54

_**I hope you all had a lovely Christmas break. I'm afraid I'm going to be sticking to Saturday posts only for a little bit longer just until I catch up with my writing again. Sorry! However, I am writing a much shorter fic 'Autonomy' about what happened between Vlad and Adze in the DiF verse if anyone is interested.  
**_

_**In response to a question asked by one reader, I'm afraid I have no idea how many chapters until this is finished. However, I can say that I've got the entire plot mapped out and it definitely has an ending! There is still the Winterville Ball, secrets from Bertrand's past and the death of one main character before this fic ends. I hope that intrigues you enough to keep you reading despite DiF's monstrous length!**_

_**Thank you as always for your reviews and feedback. I truly appreciate them. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 54**

_Blood was trickling over the paving stones and dripping onto the tarmac. The dying gasps of the young man were loud in the stillness of the frosty night. Bright red liquid was flowing freely from Robin's mutilated throat, the wound barely visible beneath the mess. A darkly cloaked figure knelt at his side, he was lifting Robin's arm, ripping open the material of his sleeve. As his fangs sank into the vulnerable flesh of Robin's wrist, it hardly seemed possible but yet more blood dribbled on to the stones below. Reaching out, Scarlett laid a hand on the vampire's shoulder. Lifting his face to hers, Vlad's eyes glittered black in the moonlight, his mouth stained red with..._

Scarlett awakened with a terrified gasp. Immediately her fingers fumbled in the dark for the lamp by her bedside cabinet. Flicking the switch, she exhaled a shaky breath as the comforting yellow light spilled out across her room. Somehow, it seemed necessary to remind herself that she was here in the safety of her room and not still in her nightmare. Her heart was racing as she fought to control her breathing. She hated dreams like that, dreams which were so vivid that it took a couple of minutes to realise that they weren't real, that the events she had just witnessed were all in her imagination. She wanted to text or phone Robin. It was crazy but she wanted reassurance that he was ok after what she had just seen in her sleep. He had been dying, there had been too much blood pouring out of his body for anyone to survive that.

As she raised a trembling hand to push back her hair, she glanced at her alarm clock. It was later than she thought. Seven AM. Her alarm should be going off shortly. Despite the cold and dark morning outside, she wouldn't have much difficulty in dragging herself out of bed. The nightmare was acting like a shot of adrenaline, there was absolutely no way she could have gotten back to sleep after that. Her hand automatically sneaked under the pillow to retrieve her mobile. Surely one little text to Robin wouldn't hurt? Just to check. Just to be certain.

She was half way through her text when she forced herself to toss the phone back on to her bed. She was being ridiculous; it was just a dream, a horrible dream! Her mind was playing tricks on her. It was obvious really when she thought about it. She was simply worried about Vlad's reaction when he found out that she had been visiting Bertrand. It was entirely her fault and clearly a part of her felt guilty at putting Robin in such an awkward situation. Vlad wouldn't really hurt Robin and especially not over something as trivial as her visits to Bertrand. They were friends, best friends, when Vlad had been out of control in the History Faculty, it had been Robin who stopped him, it had been Robin who Vlad couldn't bear to hurt.

So why did she have a horrible feeling that this was a premonition?

* * *

Bertrand gulped down the vial of dark green potion. It was difficult to avoid looking at the black scar on his throat. Just the sight of those puncture marks made Vlad's stomach recoil in disgust. He had done that to Bertrand and there was no way he could ever undo it. To keep himself busy, he unlocked a trunk and began pulling out some items of clothing.

"According to Renfield the potion will reduce your healing time from weeks to days." Vlad finally found what he was looking for, a high necked dark blue shirt. He tossed it at Bertrand, noting how the older vampire caught it with ease. The improvement in his reflexes suggested that the potion was already getting to work.

Bertrand carefully surveyed the shirt in his hands, his fingers ran over the high collar, a thoughtful look forming on his features. "You want me to wear this?" There was a note of confusion in his voice as he glanced up at Vlad.

"Yes." Vlad knew that his former tutor would find the abrupt answer unsatisfactory. "I want you to keep your neck covered." As Bertrand raised a hand to touch the scar on his neck, Vlad forced himself to stare at the bottle of vintage bottle sitting on the coffin lid behind his tutor. He redoubled his efforts to focus on the dark spidery handwriting as Bertrand stepped closer to him.

"What happened to 'I want everyone to know I have dominion over you'?"

Vlad tried to keep his voice emotionless. "It's an order Bertrand. I expect you to obey."

The older vampire moved away, he prowled around the spacious room at a leisurely pace, his hand occasionally reaching out to touch an object for emphasis as he spoke. "A coffin room. Medicine. Vintage blood. My old possessions. And now this?" He held up the shirt. "Anyone would think that you're trying to make it up to me."

When Vlad finally accepted the challenge of meeting the French vampire's gaze he found that Bertrand's eyes were glints of blue ice. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I know, I can't," he began in a low, fierce voice, self hatred beginning to leak through the cracks in his composure.

"Don't!" Despite the low volume of his voice, Bertrand managed to inject a considerable amount of force into that one word. "We've been here before. Sentimentality weakens you Vlad. Do not forget that."

Vlad closed his eyes as he absorbed the meaning behind Bertrand's words. He was more or less congratulating Vlad on his ruthless punishment, encouraging him to listen to the darker side of his nature, the part of him which whispered that he should take whatever he wanted, that he should find pleasure in inflicting pain, that he should rejoice in his cruelty rather than wallow in guilt. Except, that wasn't how he had decided to unlive. Or how to rule. Opening his eyes, Vlad gave Bertrand an obstinate look. He pushed the shirt more firmly into the other vampire's hands as he pronounced each word with exaggerated slowness and authority. "Keep. It. Covered."

* * *

Charlie's cup clinked loudly as she set it down in its saucer. "Woah! Seriously?"

Scarlett picked up the teapot and began pouring fresh tea into their cups. "It's completely freaking me out," she confessed in a low voice. "It was so realistic." She shuddered as the images flashed through her mind. "But it doesn't have to mean anything. Right?" She looked to her friend for reassurance.

Charlie's dark curls danced as she shook her head vigorously. "No, Robin was definitely very much alive when I left him this morning. Snoring very enthusiastically in fact." She picked up her cup of tea and blew lightly across the surface of the hot liquid. "We both know I'm not Vlad's biggest fan. I think he's a total tosser but I can't believe that he would ever intentionally hurt Robin."

Scarlett poked half-heartedly at the cold remains of her breakfast. "I don't know Char," she sighed heavily. "Lately, it's getting difficult to distinguish between my dreams and reality. Especially where Vlad is concerned."

Charlie gave her a curious look. "Please don't tell me that you entered the dreamworld? Again?"

Scarlett shot her a defensive look. "Not on purpose!" A dark blush began to spread across her cheeks as Charlie continued to gaze at her intently. "But, yes, there was another ...incident." Charlie raised her eyebrows questioningly but Scarlett pretended to be absorbed in the task of spreading jam on her toast.

Fortunately, her friend took the hint and didn't question her any further. "Well, I'm going home this weekend. I'll have a good chat with Nan." Charlie gave Scarlett's forearm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Nan will know what's going on. In the meantime I'll just buy Robin some garlic tablets. Preferably odourless."

* * *

"Bologna?" Father Michael tapped his fingers against the table.

"As the one of the oldest universities in the world, it is an obvious rival." Sister Augusta shut down the presentation with a sharp click on her laptop. "The fact that the source was previously stored there before being moved to Oxford can only work in our favour. It was relatively easy to plant evidence that the entire move to Oxford was orchestrated in an attempt to throw Lucius Ruthvern off the scent."

Father Luis leant forward in his seat. "What about Vladimir Dracula's presence in Oxford?" He glanced around the table. "I think that is where our greatest weakness lies. Why else would the Chosen One be here?"

Sister Augusta gave him a knowing smile. "How many teenage boys fit the description of Dracula? Dark hair, blue eyes, slim build? The Guild are so on edge at the moment all it takes is a mere glimpse of a vaguely similar face and we have a sighting of the Chosen One." She shrugged nonchalantly. "In fact it may interest you to know that there have been four reports of his presence in Bologna."

Father Luis gave her an appraising look. "In the past few days?"

"Hmm." Sister Augusta smiled. "Remarkable, isn't it?"

Father Luis grinned back. "Quite."

Father Michael lifted up the blue folder on by his side. "And then we have Trinity?" He flicked through the papers. "Wise choice. Very strategic. I like how you have taken advantage of Dublin's relatively low number of vampire attacks."

"Dublin certainly has its merits," Sister Augusta replied as she began to pack away her laptop. "However, given Bologna's historical significance, I decided that Trinity was best placed as the second decoy city."

Father Michael nodded in agreement. "I doubt anyone in the modern Guild remembers the existence of faeries. They may have declined in recent decades but if the statistics are anything to go by they are still doing a good job at keeping the vampires at bay." He shuffled the papers back into the folder and set it aside. "Right, next item on the agenda: The relocation of Professor Teverson and family."

* * *

Dmitri kept his face impassive as thunder rumbled overhead, a sure sign that the Grand High Vampire was finding it difficult to keep his temper under control. "That is regrettable," Vlad ground out the words. "Still, perhaps we can buy some time..." Vlad stopped suddenly, his eyes darkening as he sniffed the air. "We'll discuss this later." It took only a second for Vlad to flit from his room to the staircase opposite the front door which Roberts was currently opening to Scarlett.

The fading sunlight turned her hair into burnished gold, her red lips curved upwards into a smile as Roberts greeted her, at the sight of her pain and lust hit Vlad equally hard. It was difficult not to find hope in her appearance at his door. "Scarlett." He took his time descending the stairs, feeling almost as if he should curb his vampiric powers in case he frightened her off again.

There was a wary look on her face as he approached. "I hope this isn't an inconvenient time." She held up a black briefcase. "I brought some reading material for Bertrand."

Vlad tried not to show his disappointment at her words, his hurt that she was here to visit his former tutor, not him. "Yes, I heard about your visits to him." He gave her an icy look. "Not the smartest thing you've ever done."

An anxious frown creased Scarlett's forehead. "I hope you're not mad at Robin. It wasn't his fault."

Vlad couldn't help giving her a rueful smile. "Yeah, I got the impression that you were extraordinarily persuasive." Scarlett flushed slightly at his words and he watched in fascination as the colour rushed to her cheeks. He longed to run his fingers down the length of her cheekbone, absorb the heat of her skin into his cold fingertips. He wanted to crush her into his arms, pin her up against the wall and kiss her until she promised to forgive him but uncertainty as to whether his advances would be welcome made him stay exactly where he was.

"May I?" Scarlett gestured at the briefcase. "I thought you would want Bertrand to assume his duties as soon as possible. These papers should provide a good introduction to the research project." Apprehension was growing in her voice as she spoke and it took Vlad a moment to realise that he was scowling. "He is acting as your vampire historian. Isn't he?"

Vlad wasn't sure of his answer yet. He hadn't quite made up his mind yet what he was going to do with Bertrand. It was obvious that he would make an excellent historian, Vlad needed his advice and scholarly knowledge more than ever but he was reluctant to trust Bertrand. The blood oath, although useful, had its limits and Vlad knew a clever, well educated and devious vampire like Bertrand would waste no time in exploiting the loopholes in their contract. Scarlett was watching him with a worried expression and Vlad realised that he would have to give her some sort of answer. "I don't know." He held out his hand for the briefcase. "I'd rather give it some time. I'm not sure that I can trust him just yet and of course he needs some time to recover..." Vlad's voice faded away. Inwardly he winced at this reminder of how he had tortured Bertrand. He didn't want Scarlett to remember how evil he had been. It was what had torn them apart in the first place. It was hardly going to help him in his efforts to get her back.

"OK, well I've brought this for him." Scarlett dug into her enormous handbag and produced what appeared to be a tub of vanilla ice-cream. "Could you make sure he gets it?" Her fingers brushed against his as she handed it to him.

Vlad stared down at the tub. He noted absent-mindedly that it was covered in pictures of blue cows. Why the hell would Scarlett be bringing Bertrand ice-cream? He forced a cheeky smile onto his face. "Don't I get anything?" he asked in a slightly mocking tone.

Scarlett immediately became flustered. "Oh, sorry, I," Vlad tried to cut her off with an embarrassed wave of his hand but she continued. "Next time," she promised with a decisive nod. "I already know this brilliant cookie shop that you will love." She glanced down self-consciously at their hands which had somehow entwined around the ice-cream tub. "I should probably go."

Vlad panicked slightly as her fingers began to slip through his. "Why you don't stay?" he blurted the words out. "You may as well see Bertrand when you've come all this way."As Scarlett peeked up at him through her eyelashes, Vlad couldn't help tightening his fingers around hers.

"You wouldn't mind?" she asked doubtfully.

Vlad hastily shook his head. "No." It wasn't exactly a lie. He did mind her seeing Bertrand but it was something he was willing to put up if it meant she would stay with him for just a little longer.

* * *

Jonno was trying to concentrate on typing up their report. Dave wasn't exactly helping with all the interruptions, the almost constant pacing up and down. Out of the corner of his eye, Jonno could see that the older slayer was watching him intently. It was downright creepy. This report was crucial; if they could put forward a compelling enough case to Chadrick Loewe then they would receive the resources and back up that they needed to find the source before the vampires. Jonno was certain that the source had to be in Oxford; why else would Vlad Dracula be here? The Professor, the Order, the Grand High Vampire, all of them were moving into place and the Guild was going to fall behind if they didn't get a move on.

"You're being very quiet."

Jonno's gaze snapped up from his laptop to Dave's eyes. The look of intense suspicion on his face made Jonno uneasy. "I hope you're not losing your nerve van Helsing." A sinister note entered Dave's voice. "A mission such as this requires a steady hand. Balls of steel. We are meant to be the very best of the Guild, the slaying elite. Our orders were perfectly clear; we are to do whatever it takes to destroy Dracula. Him and his entire cursed species." Dave moved closer, his foul smelling breath brushing against Jonno's face. "Just remember boy; if we fail, humanity won't have an existence worth breathing for."

Jonno glared at him. Of all people, he didn't need reminding of what vampires could do. Every night when he closed his eyes, pain would flash through him. His mind would fill up with doubts, regrets and worst of all the happy memories of what life had been like before Vlad Dracula ripped it all into shreds. The things he saw in those dark hours before sleep. His mother's body lying in a pool of congealing blood. The ravaged remains of his father gathered together in that coffin. The things he dreamt of. Nightmares about what his parents had gone through, the true cause of Erin's mysterious disappearance after she finally confronted Vlad about screwing around.

But now he had new images and screams to add to his nightmares. He couldn't blame Vlad for the torture of Professor Teverson. That had been entirely him and Dave. True, he hadn't actually harmed the woman himself but he had stood back and let it happen which made him just as culpable. He couldn't help feeling that his parents would have disapproved. Yes, his Mum had become ruthless and hard towards the end but she had done everything with the sole purpose of protecting humanity.

It seemed like Dave had decided to change tact. "Show me your girl." The older man pulled up a chair beside Jonno and folded his arms across his broad chest. His voice was softer now, filled with something that was vaguely close to understanding. "Show me that photo and then look me in the eyes and tell me you are willing to let Dracula get away with it."

Jonno slowly took the photograph from his inner pocket. Unfolding it carefully, he set the picture of Erin down on the table. She smiled up at him, a mischievous gleam in her eye, her beautiful smile beaming out of the shiny paper. He still remembered the day that he took this photo. They had gone to the park for a picnic, it had been so warm and sunny, Erin had been desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the Draculas and Jonno had been more than happy to oblige her. He remembered how she laughed, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight, how warm and soft her lips had been against his... Jonno was so lost in his memories of Erin that he failed to notice the look of shock spreading across Dave's face as he recognised the blonde in the photograph.

**Chapter 55 teaser**

'_I thought you were classier than that. Resorting to clichés?'_


	57. Chapter 55

_**Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter. Sophia G – thanks for the review. I'm afraid I wasn't sure if that was your username so I didn't PM you to thank you. It's very cool to think of anyone shipping one of my OCs with Bertrand. Plenty of Berlett coming up. **_

_**Best of luck to everyone preparing for January exams/assessments, I hope they go well for you!**_

_**xo **_

_**ps: Opps! Forgot to add an apology for the intense geekery going on in this chapter.  
**_

**Chapter 55**

"You have a visitor." The Chosen One's voice was cool and impersonal as he opened the door to Bertrand's allocated room. His eyes were dark with warning as they met Bertrand's.

The blonde was seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension. Either that or she was choosing to ignore it. Her eyes were darting around the room, her gaze flickering over the vast array of objects and artefacts that Bertrand had managed to amass on his four hundred year quest to find the Chosen One. It was interesting to observe the spark of excitement gleaming in her eyes as she moved into the room.

"How are you?" Her smile was warm and if Bertrand didn't know any better he would have almost said it was genuine.

Bertrand gave her a sardonic smile in return. "As you see my surroundings have improved."

"Indeed, they have." The blonde cast a puzzled look over her shoulder at Vlad who was putting on an excellent show of examining the floorboards. "I'm glad." Vlad glanced up, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the breather's smile.

Bertrand resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Vladimir Dracula had a serious problem when it came to breathers. It was one thing refusing to eat them, it was entirely another to form attachments with them. It was unseemly for the Grand High Vampire to look at a breather the way he looked at the blonde. To see the hope and desire in the Dracula boy's eyes… He hadn't seen such softness in Vlad in years. It was rather disappointing; Bertrand had prided himself on crushing all such sentiment out of the boy. He would have to find out what was so appealing about this particular breather. He couldn't have Vlad regressing, not when they had made such valuable progress towards embracing his darker impulses.

The breather was moving towards him now, her right hand trailing in the air, almost but not quite touching the objects which had been carefully placed around the room. "Oh, but these are beautiful." She bent over slightly to look at a seventeenth century model of the solar system. "How extraordinary." If it had been any other breather, Bertrand would have warned her to keep her hands to herself but it seemed that the blonde was highly respectful of historical objects. Pity, she couldn't extend that respect to her vampiric betters. He noted sourly the lustful look on Vlad's face as the blonde sighed admiringly over the ornate cravings in the model's metalwork. Oh but the Dracula boy had it bad. It was almost pitiful.

"Beautiful and functional." The blonde straightened up. "I often think it's a pity that we seemed to have lost such craftsmanship."

Bertrand raised his eyebrows. "It is regrettable."

"And this?" Scarlett gestured at the map hanging on the wall. Bertrand shot a defensive look at the Chosen One. He didn't like the way Scarlett's eyes were roving over the map, taking in potentially valuable information about the vampire world. "I take it this is the globe as seen and divided by the supernatural world. Fascinating."

Vlad was having difficulty suppressing a smirk at Bertrand's discomfort. Nonetheless he responded to his former tutor's fierce scowl. Just not in the way that the older vampire had been hoping for. "You should check out his book collection." Bertrand could have sworn there was a glint of sadistic pleasure in Vlad's eyes as he made that suggestion.

At least, the blonde looked to him for permission, even though Bertrand was technically incapable of saying no, the blonde seemed to think that he still had a choice. How little she knew Vladimir Dracula. With a tight, forced smile, Bertrand nodded his head in acquiesce. Behind the blonde's back, he glared at Vlad, what sort of dangerous game was the Chosen One playing? It was one thing getting intimate with your food but letting a potential enemy gather inside information? Had the boy learnt nothing from his past mistakes? Their telepathic standoff was interrupted by an excited squeal from the breather browsing through the volumes on Bertrand's bookcase.

* * *

"_De humani corporis fabrica! _Vesalius!" Scarlett looked up at the vampire towering over her. "Is this for real?" From the way Bertrand's dark brows creased together, it looked like he was slightly offended at her hastened to explain herself. "You have an original copy of _The Fabric of the Human Body_?" She was struggling to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Oh my…" she paused to take a deep breath and exhale it slowly. "Could you?"

Bertrand scrutinised her for a long moment but for once Scarlett didn't feel uncomfortable under his gaze. Her mind was too busy being blown at the prospect of getting to view an original copy of such an important book in medical history. She couldn't help beaming at him in delight as he knelt beside her and slid the book out of its place.

"Fine," he said begrudgingly. "However, I shall handle the book." He glanced down pointedly at Scarlett's hands. She nodded in understanding.

Suddenly, Vlad was behind them, his voice sounding grittier than usual as he snarled out a single, accusatory word. "Why?"

Scarlett sighed softly. "To protect the book." She held out her hands to Vlad. "I'm human. My warm, sweaty hands could potentially damage the fragile pages. Bertrand is just being sensible." She smiled reassuringly at the older vampire to prove that she wasn't offended. She couldn't understand why Vlad still seemed annoyed on her behalf but he did look incredibly sexy when he frowned like that. She gave herself a mental shake, she had no right to think such things anymore, Vlad was her ex. She could only hope that her heartbeat didn't give away her true thoughts. That was rather irritating advantage that Vlad had over her.

Vlad turned to look at her, his eyes scanning her face as if he was trying to find out if she was lying or not. "Then, I'll get you gloves."

Scarlett caught his arm as he moved off towards the door. "Thanks." She tried to ignore how good it felt to touch him again, how firm and hard his muscles felt beneath her fingertips, how her skin prickled at being so close to him.

Bertrand cleared his throat with deliberate loudness. "In the meantime?" He gestured at the book which was open and laying on the next desk.

Scarlett hurried to stand by his side. She was all too aware that she was grinning like an idiot as she leant over the desk and drank in the wonders of Vesalius' greatest work. She had read so much about this book, how it had challenged the medical profession, how it had corrected Galen, its limitations and its strengths and to simply gaze directly onto its Latin filled pages was amazing beyond belief. She listened eagerly to Bertrand's comments as he skimmed the pages and pointed out a particularly interesting illustration or a note which amused him with its inaccuracy. The only time, Scarlett dared to interrupt him was when they came to the section on blood vessels. Without thinking about it, she laid her hand over his fingers as he moved to quickly turn the page. Guilt rushed through her when he flinched at the touch of her skin against his. "Sorry," she whispered softly, not daring to glance up at his face which previously had been filled with such life, such animation. "It's one of the greatest flaws in Vesalius' work. He didn't grasp the significance of the circulatory system but you must have known? As a vampire?" Finally, she risked looking up at the vampire by her side.

A slow smile was creeping across Bertrand's lips. "Yes." He wore a slightly patronising expression as he gazed down at her.

Scarlett began to laugh. "Being a vampire during the renaissance," she mused aloud. "Oh Bertrand! If vampires do come out to the world, imagine how much you could teach us. The stories you could tell us, the facts, the realities, the truth or at least a first-hand interpretation of events." She smiled at the bemused expression on the vampire's face. "Sorry, sorry. That was a bit too enthusiastic!" Bertrand began to smile back at her. He had such a lovely smile, it lit up his entire face, making him appear so much younger, his perfect teeth flashing white against the golden hue of his skin. "You should smile often," she said flippantly.

Bertrand's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're quite the little historian." He moved away from the book, only then did Scarlett realise how close they had been standing, how his arms had been almost encircling her as they had browsed the book together, she hadn't really noticed it before as she had been too caught up in the precious artefact in front of her. Bertrand continued speaking in a low, dangerous tone. "Is that what you are searching for? Is that all you want from us? History?"

The transformation from learned scholar to hissing vampire was so rapid that Scarlett had to pause for a moment simply to catch up. She wasn't sure what exactly she had said or done to make Bertrand so angry and defensive. She knew that he couldn't hurt her, not under the terms of the blood oath, but that knowledge didn't make him any less scary. Still, she reasoned, vampires were like animals, or children, or hoodies, the trick was not to show that you were afraid. "I can't think of anything else I could possibly want more."

Bertrand chuckled darkly. "I've been everywhere," he smiled mockingly. "Every significant historical event, I've been there, in the shadows, watching, sometimes participating, always feeding." He leant over the desk, his fangs gleaming in the candlelight, his voice a venomous hiss. "You wouldn't believe what I've sank these into."

She was supposed to be scared of him; she knew that and deep down there was a small part of her that found him terrifying. But he was offering her the world on a plate and how could any history student resist that? "Then tell me!" She met his gaze without flinching. "Tell me about your life, the history that you've lived through. It would be wonderful to learn from you."

Bertrand snorted with derision. "Do you think you're the first breather to ask that of me?" He stepped away from the desk, a look of disdain on his face. "Always the same boring questions. The same inane ramblings. The same screams when I rip their throats out."

Unperturbed, Scarlett maintained eye contact. "Oh Bertrand," she tsked disapprovingly. "I thought you were classier than that. Resorting to clichés?" The older vampire snarled at her but she stood her ground. He didn't need to know that she was reciting clause fourteen of the blood oath in her head over and over again. The clause that prevented him from biting any breathers unless it was the last available means of self-defence. "What if I ask you something that no-one has ever asked before?"

"You want to play games?" Bertrand sneered.

Scarlett moved towards him. "Oh go on. Let me try." Her smile was deliberately provocative. It was simply too much fun teasing him. "One question. What have you got to lose?"

Bertrand frowned fiercely. "I've drained breathers for less than the way you've just spoken to me. Besides," he turned his back on her and began to pour himself a glass of vintage blood from the bottle resting on his coffin, "Vlad could simply compel me to satisfy your every whim."

Scarlett made a sound of disgust. "Then, I wouldn't want to know."

Bertrand turned back around. He took a slow, careful sip of his blood, his eyes seemingly focused on something behind her. "One question."

Scarlett pretended to think about it for a few seconds before arranging her face to into an expression of total innocence. "What is…your favourite Disney film?" It was impossible to hide her grin at the mixture of surprise and dismay on Bertrand's face, however fleeting it may have been.

Bertrand took another sip of his blood before speaking again. "Admittedly, despite its obvious childishness and superficiality, that is not a question that I've been asked before." His gaze was calculating as it swept over her. "Very well." He poured himself a significantly more generous measure of blood. "Snow White."

Scarlett just stared at him. "Snow White?" she repeated disbelievingly.

"Oh yes," Bertrand replied silkily. "The first full length animation. Quite an accomplishment in those days. Circumstance had it that I was in the United States at the time. Hunting down a lead on the Chosen One. False, of course. Nonetheless, I granted myself an evening off. It was quite entertaining. All those frightened children, the panic as they ran away from the screen, the chaos, they found it simply terrifying." Bertrand drained his glass in one sharp gulp. "I must have had six or seven delicious little snacks that evening." His exquisite mouth, still stained with blood, curved into a vindictive smile.

Scarlett had to grasp the edge of the table as a sudden rush of blood to her head made her feel decidedly faint. Her stomach churned with revulsion at what his words were insinuating. He was talking about eating children… murdering six or seven little children…

Vlad's voice, clear and confident, broke through the haze. "He's lying."

* * *

Stepping back into the room, Vlad shot a warning look at Bertrand before continuing to speak. "He's winding you up." It was difficult to try and keep his fangs from dropping. He was trying so hard not to act like a vampire around Scarlett, trying not to scare her off again and Bertrand had to go and do something stupidly counterproductive like telling her a horror story from his past. Not to mention the fact that Scarlett had been in his arms. With a grimace, Vlad pushed that particular image to the back of his mind. He could only hope that Scarlett didn't pick up on the extra depth to his voice. "We don't drink the blood of innocents."

Scarlett glanced from one vampire to the other, scepticism clearly written on her face.

Bertrand's mouth twitched with the ghost of a malicious smile. "You made it so easy."

Scarlett glared at him in outrage. "I still win with the question," she reminded him with just a trace of smugness.

"Bertrand," Vlad interrupted, "Dmitri requires your presence in the training room. Immediately." He was acutely aware of how authoritative he must have sounded not just to the vampire he was commanding but also to the breather watching them. Bertrand bowed in a mocking manner to Scarlett before leaving in sudden whoosh of movement. Renfield's potion was definitely working. A little too well, Vlad thought spitefully, if the flirting between his servant and girlfriend - no _ex_- was anything to go by.

The ex-girlfriend in question was biting her lip and looking down in a shy, almost awkward way. A soft pinkness was steadily building up in her cheeks, Vlad's fingers longed to stroke her face, to feel the increased heat as the blood pooled beneath her soft skin. He held out the white gloves that he had retrieved from his study. "I brought you these." He nodded towards the book which was still laid out on the desk. "If you're still interested?" As soon as he said it, he could have kicked himself for sounding so childish and petty.

Scarlett gave him a disbelieving look and for one horrible second Vlad thought she was going to tell him off then her lips parted in a dazzling smile. "Of course!" She rolled her eyes as if suggesting Vlad was crazy for thinking otherwise and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps, she was more interested in the book, than his former tutor after all. That certainly seemed to be the case, as she quickly slipped on the fine gloves and returned to browsing through the book, her face filling with that strange happiness she seemed to feel when she was immersed in something historical.

Cautiously, Vlad took a couple of steps forward to stand by her side. "So, what's so special about this?" He tapped the yellowing parchment with his fingers.

"Seriously, Vlad," Scarlett shook her head in disbelief, "You don't know what this book is? Its significance in medical history?" She gave him a disapproving frown, remarkably similar to the sort that Miss McCauley used to give his father. It made Vlad grin.

"Well, as long as it isn't secretly hoarding a psychotic vampire hell-bent on world domination…" he shrugged dismissively.

Scarlett raised her eyebrows slightly then apparently decided not to question him further. "The production and publication of Vesalius' _de humani corporis fabrica _represents a pivotal moment in the medical renaissance, particularly in the field of anatomy," she began to explain in an impassionate voice, her slight accent bleeding through, softening the crispness of her words. As she spoke, she turned the pages of the book with a gentleness bordering on reverence, occasionally she paused to run her fingers over an illustration or the Latin text as if to prove her point and so it was only natural for Vlad to move closer so that he could see what she referring to. Lost in the soft murmur of her voice, intoxicated by her scent and warmth, Vlad found himself slipping an arm around her waist as their bodies pressed together, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip in a possessive gesture, his chin almost resting on her shoulder. The way Scarlett melted into his touch, her body easily slipping into place against his, the slight pressure of her weight against him as she leant back against his chest. It was as if the past week hadn't happened, as if they had never shouted at each other full of rage and pain, as if they had never been apart and it felt so right to have her in his arms again. Vlad dipped his head slightly just so that his lips deliberately brushed against the smooth satin of her jaw. Scarlett's reaction, the soft gasp that escaped her lips, the slight tilting of her head to give him greater access, made him smile triumphantly.

"Vladimir, you're not paying attention," Scarlett admonished him primly, reaching forward to turn another page.

Vlad nipped her earlobe gently. "Oh, but I am," he whispered, his voice heavy with meaning before anticipating her next words. "Who knew that Bertrand's teaching aids had such a fascinating history?"

Scarlett turned slightly in his arms so that she could give him a questioning look. Clearly, she thought he was being sarcastic. "It's slightly out of date for teaching purposes."

"Hmm, Bertrand still seemed to think it was relevant to discussing torture techniques." Scarlett looked up at him with horror in her eyes and he found himself hastening to explain. "He gave up after a few weeks when I made it clear I wasn't interested. I don't do torture. Honestly." However, inside his mind he found himself asking her to define torture, after all it was a relatively loose concept in the vampire world. Would his treatment of Esmeralda, terrifying her into confession with the threat of interrogation, qualify as torture? Or the way he had subjected Bertrand to an agonising death with a garlic and argentilium stake? There were so many ways of pushing someone to the mental or physical edge of their endurance...

Scarlett was still looking up at him, her lips mere inches away from his, her breathing more erratic as he tilted towards her, his other hand rising to cup her chin, Scarlett closed her eyes as his thumb trailed suggestively over her mouth, "Don't," she whispered pleadingly. "Please Vlad. Don't."

He wanted to argue with her, he wanted to know why she was rejecting his advances when she had previously made it so clear that she welcomed them, he wanted to persuade her that she should be his again, that he was sorry and wanted her back. His hand dropped down from her face as she stepped away. It hurt to see the troubled look on her face, the way her eyes were dark with emotions. "I'm not some toy for you to play games with." Scarlett turned her back on him and began walking towards the door.

"Would you consider giving it a second chance?" The words were out of Vlad's mouth before he even realised what he was saying. If he had been a breather, his heart would have been pounding painfully hard.

Scarlett half-turned around, "A second chance?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Vlad forced himself to nod; he even managed a weak smile despite the ache in his chest. The way she had just looked at him… he didn't dare ask for what he truly wanted. "I could really do with your help on the research project. Just for another few weeks."

"Oh." Scarlett's smile, in response, was brittle and forced. "I'll think about it."

This time, Vlad simply let her leave. He listened to her every footstep as she walked down the staircase, fighting against the urge to rush after her, to sweep her into his arms and crush his lips against hers. As he heard the front door close, Vlad slumped against the desk and cast his eyes upwards to the ceiling. He had no idea how he was going to begin fixing this mess.

**Chapter 56 teaser**

'_Ever since he had come back from Transylvania, Vlad had been nice. Nicer than nice.'_


	58. Chapter 56

_**I hope everyone's assessments/exams are going well. FFN seems quieter than usual : ( I always think January is a bit of a rubbish month! If anyone is interested I posted a series 4 fic 'Realisation' yesterday. Bit angsty though.**_

_**Sorry, I'm posting this later than usual, it's been a busy weekend! Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reviewing : )**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 56**

This was the fallout of his decision-making, of his failure to protect the woman standing before him, of his delay in contacting the rest of the Order for assistance. He couldn't blame Stephen not for the anger in his eyes or for the way he hovered protectively between Father James and his family. The boy, Benjamin, was looking up at them with confusion and fear in his eyes. This was what it had come to, a family being uprooted, their lives transformed into lies and secrecy. When confronted with the reality of what the Order had to do to achieve its aims, Father James couldn't help wishing that there was another way, that he had made different decisions but it was too late for regrets.

"The Order will do everything to ensure that the transition goes smoothly," Father James tried to smile reassuringly but the way Benjamin clung to his mother's leg and buried his face in her skirt made it exceedingly difficult. "We will do everything to protect you."

Stephen's mouth twisted bitterly into a grimace. "From this point onwards?" he sneered, "Where was your protection when we needed it most?" Bending down, he scooped Benjamin up into his arms.

Father James swallowed hard. He wasn't sure how to answer; there was no right answer, no justification strong enough.

"Enough," Professor Teverson said softly, laying a tender hand on her husband's arm. "We have been given a new beginning. Let's not waste anymore time." She nudged him gently in the direction of the car. As Benjamin's fingers scrabbled for hold of her fingers, she dropped a kiss on his hair, breathing deeply as if immersing herself in his scent. She looked up at Father James. "Tell Father Gabriel, I am thankful."

Father James nodded slowly. A painful lump formed in his throat as he watched them climb into the car. He forced himself to keep his face impassive, to quash the emotions rising inside his chest. He had to remember that, no matter how badly he felt over this incident, he wasn't the only one living with the consequences.

* * *

The red material felt like a strange mixture of suede and velvet against her fingertips. Flipping the covers open, Scarlett breathed in the scent of fresh, unspoiled paper. Looking up from the creamy pages, she noticed that Vlad was watching her with a knowing smirk. She hated the way her heart still skipped beats every time he smiled at her. Worse still, she hated that he knew this. As a vampire, he was privy to every little flicker of movement inside her chest. Dragging her eyes away from his mouth, she stared down at the notebook in her hands. It was obviously very expensive, the pages had a wonderfully thick and luxurious feel to them, she would have no problems using her fountain pen on them. And it was red. Her favourite colour. She couldn't help but be touched by how much thought he had put into the gift. All the more so when you considered the use to which she was putting it.

But why? That what's was driving her crazy. Ever since he had come back from Transylvania, Vlad had been nice. Nicer than nice. He was flirting with her, he was buying her gifts, he was being polite and courteous, there was even that moment ... when he asked for a second chance. A spasm of pain went through her heart at the memory. It was as if he was trying to make up for what had happened before his weekend away. Perhaps, he knew what she had been like afterwards. Charlie wouldn't have said anything to him but Robin could have let something slip about how devastated she had been over their break up. Or, the thought was horrifying, perhaps Bertrand had told Vlad about the cuts on her arm. Guilt and shame swept over her; she didn't want Vlad to pity her. That night had been a moment of weakness, the important thing was to try to stay in control of her emotions and not let it happen again.

Maybe he wants you back?

Scarlett frowned darkly. She needed to crush that tiny, hopeful voice in her head. After everything that they had said and done to each other, why would Vlad want her back? Why would she want him back? He was cruel and manipulative; a liar and oh so good at seduction. He could make her feel safe and loved just by holding her close to him and then he could rip it all away when he felt like it. So why did her heart ache so much for him? Why was she making such a fool of herself over someone who viewed her as nothing more than a convenience?

"Scarlett?" Looking up from the present, Scarlett realised that Vlad was watching her with concern in his eyes. He reached out a pale, elegant hand to touch her. "Are you ok?"

Scarlett jerked back instinctively. Having him touch her was just too much. She wasn't sure she could hide her feelings if he came any closer. Something would give her away, her heartbeat, her flushed cheeks, a shiver, her body would betray her and then he would look at her with pity, if she was lucky. Contempt, if she wasn't. She forced herself to smile brightly. "Thank you. It's very thoughtful." She tried to keep her mind focused on her primary reason for visiting Vlad's mansion. "May I speak to Bertrand now?"

* * *

Dave set the phone down in a carefully controlled manner. The call's history had been wiped out, of course. He couldn't take the risk of Jonno finding out about his inquiries. He folded the piece of paper up into a small neat square and placed it in his wallet. He couldn't look at the name that he had just written down. It was a lie. That scheming little bitch had lied to them for the best part of two years. She had been by Dave's side for a least a year during which they had staked countless vampires and saved each other's lives more times than he cared to remember. He thought that they had gotten close. He had been impressed by her dedication, her utter ruthlessness in hunting down the enemy, the way that she had always been the first to put herself forward for a dangerous mission. He had taken her under his wing, ensured she got additional training, the best slaying opportunities, he had told her secrets not just about the Guild but about himself, his family and his time in the army.

Eve's betrayal – No, _Erin's _betrayal cut deep.

* * *

Robin snapped his fingers impatiently in front of Vlad's face. The Grand High Vampire was currently doing a great impression of a lovesick teenager as he watched the two other occupants in the lounge. "Don't worry Vlad, it's not like this is even important." Robin tapped his pen meaningfully against the maps and papers spread out on the table.

Vlad smiled apologetically, he picked up a spreadsheet as if to examine the data more closely but his pretence at interest was made all the more obvious by the way his gaze slid back to Scarlett and Bertrand.

Robin flung his pen onto the table. He intended it to be a dramatic gesture but as a lightweight biro, it simply skittered across the table. "If you're that bothered then why did you give her the notebook?" Sometimes, Vlad could be such a spoilt brat. Didn't he realise just how hard Robin and Scarlett were working on this bloody research? They had spent hours painstakingly going over every little detail, cross referencing, comparing maps and Vlad couldn't even be bothered to put on a convincing performance of checking their work.

"I'm not bothered." Vlad's attempt to accompany this with a condescending sneer didn't work on his best friend.

"Great." Robin took a sustaining gulp of tea and tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. "So, if we could just get on with trying to save vampirekind?"

* * *

_Streets, dark and crowded, the stench of filth, the yellow hue of the mists curling their way around the lampposts, the crowds jostling and jeering... _

Scarlett's eyes slowly fluttered open as Bertrand's voice faded away. The vampire was watching her with a look of amused disdain on his handsome features. She couldn't bring herself to care, not when he was able to evoke such wondrous images of Victorian London. She leant forward slightly in her seat. "So who caught him in the end?"

"Just about every vampire of the era," Bertrand laughed contemptuously, "_If_ you believe them."

"But not you?" Scarlett couldn't help but be intrigued by his nonchalance.

Bertrand shrugged dismissively. "I don't make false claims."

"So why were all the vampires chasing after Jack the Ripper anyway?" Scarlett asked, curiosity winning over her natural squeamishness.

"For his blood naturally," Bertrand replied, the tone of his voice making it clear he was disappointed by her lack of vampire knowledge. "The type of person who could commit those crimes, the random violence, the viciousness of the wounds inflicted, ah the horror of the last victim... such darkness within a breather's soul, their blood would be exquisite." Bertrand spoke about the infamous murderer in much the same manner as a foodie enthused about their favourite coffee shop.

Scarlett nodded; she was beginning to comprehend Vlad's words the other day. _'We don't drink the blood of innocents._' It also explained why vampires were so fond of slayers' blood. Whether or not, slayers wanted to admit it, they were killers and that had to somehow taint their blood with a particular brand of darkness, making it into a delicacy for the creatures they hunted."So it's like the opposite of True Blood?" She knew she shouldn't ask the question, it was only confirming Bertrand's opinion of her as an empty-headed blonde stereotype but a part of her couldn't resist teasing him. The pained expression on his face was rather adorable.

"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth. "True Blood is very _misleading_." The emphasis on that particular word made her think that he wanted to replace it with something much more derogatory. "It gives some people," Bertrand cast a very pointed look in the direction of Vlad, "inappropriate ideas about vampire-breather relations."

"Like sex?" Scarlett asked innocently. She looked up at Bertrand, her eyes all wide and childlike, her face serious and concerned. Inwardly, she grinned like a maniac at the way he shuddered in response to her question.

Bertrand let out a longsuffering sigh. "Amongst many other things."

Scarlett pressed her lips firmly together in an attempt to stop herself from bursting into laughter. She stared down at the blank pages of her notebook until she was fairly certain that she had enough control to look at Bertrand again. When she lifted her head, she found him staring at her. He had this way of watching you that made you feel like he could read your innermost thoughts. She sincerely hoped not; they would probably only confirm his opinion of her as a silly little girl, desperately out of her depth, especially when it came to her feelings for his boss.

"You remind me of someone." He looked thoughtful. "Someone from my past."

She jumped slightly as he reappeared behind her, his cold, strong hands pressing down onto her shoulders, his stubble brushing against the vulnerable flesh of her throat as he breathed in her scent. "Not quite," his voice was a low growl, "But similar."

Scarlett closed her notebook and carefully clicked the lid back onto her fountain pen. "Bertrand," she said calmly, "do we need to discuss the concept of 'personal space'?"

Before she could even finish her sentence, Vlad was standing in front of them, a look of menace on his finely cut features. "Is there a problem?" he demanded in a voice that was thicker than usual. She suspected that it might have something to do with his fangs.

"Not at all." Scarlett hurried to reassure him. The last thing she wanted was to give Vlad another reason to take his temper out on Bertrand.

Bertrand's tone was rich in sarcasm as he slowly walked around the back of the sofa and returned to the armchair where he had previously been sitting. "Apparently not."

Scarlett glanced between the two vampires. In contrast to Bertrand's cold composure, Vlad looked moody and irritable. Damn but his mouth was sexy when he pouted like that. Scarlett took a deep breath and stared down at her notebook. Looking at Vlad was even more dangerous than laughing at Bertrand. "I should go." She began to gather her belongings. "I promised Charlie I would be back at seven anyway." Hoisting her handbag onto her shoulder she stood up.

Vlad didn't move away with the result that their bodies were far too close together, just a few inches separating his slim, hard frame from hers. Vlad's closeness combined with the familiar scent of his aftershave made the butterflies flutter wildly in her tummy. "You don't have to go." His vividly blue eyes were earnest.

"Yeah she does." Robin took a loud slurp of his tea. "Trust me mate, Charlie gave her strict orders." He lifted his leather coat up from the sofa where he had carelessly tossed it earlier. "I'll walk you back."

* * *

Vlad watched them leave, their feet crunching against the gravel of his driveway, Scarlett was gesturing excitedly, Robin was shaking his head and laughing at her. He could almost imagine their conversation word for word. Scarlett would be in rapture over some historical detail from her conversation with Bertrand and Robin would be teasing her about 'geeking out' as he called it. He grinned as Scarlett swatted Robin on the arm. He would bet any money right now that she was calling him a prat.

"He's rather familiar with her." Bertrand came to stand beside him, his voice full of silken malice. "I'd watch that if I were you." They both knew what he was alluding to; it wouldn't be the first time that a love interest of Vlad's betrayed him with a supposed friend.

Vlad's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he turned to face his former tutor. He refused to let Bertrand back into his mind, to let the older vampire twist his thoughts and make insinuations about the people who were supposed to care for him. Scarlett and Robin were just friends, nothing more. "It's none of your business," he replied with a calmness he didn't really feel.

"Hmm." Bertrand stared straight ahead out of the window. "Just like the papers on your desk are none of my business?"

"Yes." The coldness of Vlad's reply made Bertrand glance sideways at him.

"I'm only looking out for your best interests," Bertrand's voice was the perfect blend of concern and disinterest. "You've been here before. Of course, your previous dalliance was easily written off as an unfortunate incident. A lapse of judgment which, although regrettable, could be explained by your youthfulness. However, now, I would hope that you have enough experience of the world and of the demanding nature of your position as Grand High Vampire to know that such relationships are impossible." Bertrand's tone was deliberately harsh as he studied the profile of the stubborn, young vampire by his side. "Only a fool repeats his mistakes Vlad."

Vlad had to bite back a hiss of warning at Bertrand's words.

"Slayers and breathers," Bertrand shook his head as if he was disappointed, "It will never end well." He moved closer to Vlad, his next words coming out in a low hiss, "But then again, neither of them are quite what they seem. Are they, Your Highness?"

Vlad refused to move away, to do so would be an acknowledgment that Bertrand was attempting to intimidate him. Instead, he concentrated on the fading figures of Robin and Scarlett. When he spoke, he made sure his voice was perfectly controlled. "You wanted back into my service Bertrand. You accepted the terms and conditions that were on offer." Vlad paused for a moment, knowing all too well that the blood oath would still be a painfully vivid memory for Bertrand. He leant forward ever so slightly, playing Bertrand at his own game as the height difference brought Vlad's mouth dangerously close to the bite mark he had inflicted on the older vampire only days ago. "Don't make me regret it."

**Chapter 57 teaser**

'_Sure, it sounds romantic, I mean who didn't love Buffy and Angel?'_


	59. Chapter 57

_**Thank you so much for your reviews. Having a bit of writers' block in relation to DiF at the moment which is incredibly frustrating as I'm getting rather desperate to finish it off. Apologies in advance for the Berlett geekery in this chapter but it seems like the sort of thing they would have in common.**_

_**If anyone does enjoy Bertrand/historical fics they should check out Honalooloo's latest fic 'Solidarity' – it's fantastic!**_

_**Hope you are all having fun in the snow!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 57**

The two friends wandered down to the train station at a comfortable pace, each munching on their respective cookie and taking it in turns to wheel the miniature suitcase. Despite the pale winter sun, frost still glittered on the pavements and grass and their breath was a ghostly white. After crumpling up the wrapper from her cookie, Charlie tossed it into the nearest bin, allowing herself a small smile when her aim was exactly right. Next term, she was determined to run for captain of the netball team.

When they reached the train station, Charlie reclaimed the handle of her suitcase and stepped forward to wrap her other arm tightly around Scarlett. "Take care of yourself," she whispered fiercely into her best friend's ear. "I mean it! I will personally stuff garlic cloves down Vlad's throat if anything happens to you."

Scarlett hugged her back just as tightly, only with both arms. "Please don't." She giggled slightly at the image Charlie's words evoked. As tiny and delicate as Charlie seemed, she was actually quite ferocious when she put her mind to something. Scarlett had seen her playing netball, it had been vicious.

Charlie stepped back. "Hmm, we'll see," she replied noncommittally. "Anyway, I'll check things out with my Nan. We'll get this whole dreamworld nonsense sorted."

"Thanks," Scarlett replied softly. "For everything. You've been amazing this past week." She pulled Charlie into another hug; this time one of gratitude. Almost every night this week, Charlie had arranged something to keep Scarlett occupied, from girly film nights to trips to Oxford's most celebrated ice cream parlour to simply cooking dinner together. Scarlett knew how incredibly lucky she was to have a friend like Charlie looking out for her. As the announcement for Charlie's train rang out through the station, Scarlett released her and stood back. "Give my love to your Nan."

Charlie grinned enthusiastically, "Will do."

* * *

There were many ways to tell if a house had been left unoccupied for a couple of days. There was a particular type of coldness in the air which indicated that the heating system hadn't been switched on for more than a day or two. The immaculate state of the kitchen, no plates in the sink, no debris scattered around the toaster, the bin smelling slightly stale despite being nearly empty. Upstairs, the wardrobes were suspiciously sparse as if clothes had recently been removed. All in all it looked as if Thomas' residence had been empty for the best part of a week. The sort of organised emptiness that usually indicated a holiday or at the very least a planned absence.

"They've been here." Jonno knew that he was stating the obvious but he was hoping Dave would just give up already. It was creepy sneaking around someone's house especially when it was broad daylight and they had the key to the front door.

"Hmm." Dave opened the fridge door and studied the contents inside. "We still don't know who _they_ are." He closed the fridge door with unnecessary force. "We need to find out what exactly this Order is and their connection to the Chosen One." He slapped Jonno hard on the back. "Come on bookworm, time you earned your nickname."

* * *

Vlad couldn't take his eyes off the red tin sitting on the kitchen table. A delicious smell of chocolate was wafting from its contents. Scarlett set the teapot down firmly on the table and slid into her chair. She couldn't help smiling in amusement at Vlad's eagerness. His childlike excitement over any form of confectionary was just adorable. She couldn't wait to see how much he loved these cookies; they were so thick and gooey that it would be more accurate to say that they were a delicious cookie/cake hybrid. "Go on," she pushed the tin towards him. "Try them."

Bertrand's expression was sour. "Vlad shouldn't eat confectionary. It's bad for his fangs," he said sanctimoniously.

A sneaky smile began to creep across Robin's mouth. "All the more for those of us without fangs!" He made an attempt to snatch the tin off Vlad who blocked his manoeuvre with ease. It didn't put Robin off making another lunge.

Scarlett picked up her mug of tea. "I bought enough cookies for everyone." Her words didn't prevent the boys from continuing to tussle over the tin. Ignoring them, she turned her attention to the former tutor. "How are you today Bertrand?"

"Bored," he answered abruptly before taking a sip of his blood.

Scarlett nodded in sympathy. "Are you well enough to venture out yet?"

There was a moment's hesitation before the older vampire replied. "Yes."

"Wonderful," Scarlett beamed at him. "Would you fancy attending a concert tonight?" She ignored the thud of Vlad's cookie as it dropped onto the table. "I promise it won't be too strenuous."

"Strenuous?" Vlad echoed weakly.

Scarlett glanced at him. "You just sit there and enjoy the music, it's hardly taxing." Her gaze returned to the bemused vampire in front of her. "I think you'll enjoy it. It's mainly the works of Thomas Tallis." Bertrand appeared mildly intrigued at the mention of the Tudor composer. "Besides," she continued in a light and breezy voice, "I think it would do you good to get out for a few hours. After all, being cooped up inside all day and night can't be healthy, even for a vampire, and it's not like you're under house arrest or anything." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Vlad's shoulders stiffening at her words. "So what do you think Bertrand?" She feigned a mixture of surprise and bewilderment as his gaze slowly slid towards Vlad. "Surely, you don't have to ask for permission?"

Vlad retrieved his cookie. "No, of course he doesn't," he said curtly before taking an enormous bite of its chocolate gooiness as if to prevent himself from saying anything further on the matter.

Bertrand regarded her warily. "Thomas Tallis?" he repeated softly.

"Mostly," Scarlett replied nonchalantly, "Some Victori, a personal favourite of mine, Sheppard and Lassus as well." She gave Bertrand a flirtatious smile, knowing all too well that Vlad was attempting not to choke with rage. "How could you possibly resist?"

* * *

"_How could you possibly resist_?" Vlad repeated Scarlett's words mockingly as he and Robin huddled over the warmth of the brazier. "_How could you possibly resist?_ I mean why didn't she just use her stupid, bloody lipstick to write 'bite me' all over her neck?" he continued in an embittered tone.

Robin took a gulp of his cider. "Mate, you're being ridiculous," he said firmly. It was Friday evening and he was out for a pint with his best friend. Sitting in the freezing cold, listening to Vlad moan about girls had not featured in Robin's plans for the weekend. He was fairly certain that this was not what the Grand High Vampire ought to be doing when he was out on the lash. Besides, he was getting really fed up of Vlad's whining about Scarlett. If he was that bothered then he shouldn't have broken up with her in the first place. After all, they were both being incredibly selfish. He would bet anything that they hadn't even bothered to consider how their break up would affect mutual friends like him. It was really inconsiderate of them to get involved with each other in the first place if they knew that they were going to break up. Nobody had even bothered to ask Robin how he was coping with all of this drama. Some people were just so self-involved.

Vlad scowled at him. "So getting upset over my girlfriend asking another vampire out is ridiculous?"

"Yeah." Robin rolled his eyes before stating the obvious. "She's not your girlfriend anymore. She can ask out anyone she likes. And she didn't really ask him out. Not like that. She only asked him to that stupid concert because he's the only person boring enough to listen to that classical crap." He picked his toasting fork and began stuffing marshmallows onto the prongs. "Vlad, you're the Grand High Vampire, how can anyone compete with that?"

Vlad shot Robin a warning look to keep his voice down. He needn't have bothered since most of the pub's patrons had elected for the warmth of the indoors rather than sit out in the garden. "I don't think Scarlett is impressed by the whole title and power thing." He drained his own glass of cider. "It's not like I'm even a 'proper' vampire." He studied the bottom of his pint class intently as if it held all the solutions to his problems.

Robin resisted the urge to sigh heavily. Great. Fan-bloody-tastic. Vlad was going down the path of the self-pitying drunkard. This was going to be a long night. He thrust the toasting fork at Vlad. "You look after the sugar, I'll get us more alcohol."

* * *

Robin set the tray down on the table as carefully as possible, trying not to spill any of the precious golden liquid. Shivering, he reclaimed his former position, as close as possible to the brazier without setting himself on fire. Spreading his bare hands over the heat of the flames, he sighed contentedly.

Still looking like a miserable sod, Vlad reached for the nearest pint glass. "I mean of all the vampires – _Bertrand_?" He wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

Robin braced himself. He couldn't stand another minute of Vlad's moping let alone an entire Friday evening. Or worse, an entire weekend! "Alright mate," he began determinedly, "Normally, I would rather endure a day of shoe shopping with Charlie than talk about feelings but I'm staging what they call," He waggled his fingers theatrically "an 'Intervention"." He fixed Vlad with a cold, hard stare. "Get over it. Seriously, mate, you need to pull yourself together." He rather enjoyed the look of outrage on his best friend's face. "Vlad, it's pathetic. You're the Grand High Vampire! You should be out drinking entire cities dry of their blood not sitting here whining like a child who has lost his favourite toy! You and Scarlett," he inserted a disbelieving snort, "Let's get real. It was never going to work out. She's a breather, you're a vampire. Sure, it sounds romantic, I mean who didn't love Buffy and Angel? But it's like me falling in love with a pineapple; it's ridiculous! As the Count would say she's nothing more than a dinner ingredient. Aha! Don't try to interrupt me." Robin held up a warning finger as Vlad began to protest. "You two were never meant to be together. It was a disaster waiting to happen. You're both as screwed up as each other and believe me that is quite an accomplishment. Both of you have massive abandonment issues-"

"What? Abandonment issues?!"

"You're both control freaks. Scarlett's always struggling to achieve some unattainable goal of perfection whilst putting on this massive act of being Little Miss Glamorous. And pretending to be something you're not is definitely your area of expertise. You have all these stupid rules and boundaries because you're scared of what you really are. You're meant to be a bloodthirsty vampire Vlad, not an Edward Cullen wannabe!"

"I don't have abandonment issues," Vlad muttered darkly, "Whatever abandonment issues are, I don't have them."

Robin ploughed on, completely ignoring Vlad's outraged mutterings. "You have nothing in common. Nothing. Scarlett is all about tradition and history and classical music. Mate, you hate all that stuff. You're into cool things like comics and Metallica. Like me." Robin smiled smugly. He had impeccable taste. "You like everything to be modern, even your coffin. It looks more like an instrument of torture than a proper coffin, not that I'm saying that isn't awesome in itself. But let's face it, if Scarlett was a vampire, she would be all about the biting and the capes and the mouldy castle. You would hate her on sight. It would be fangs at dawn."

Vlad's only response was to glower.

"And I suppose I have to bring up the whole issue of sex," Robin grimaced with genuine distaste. If Charlie ever heard what he was going to say next then he would receive a much deserved smack. "I don't see how that is ever going to work. She's all religious and uptight and you? Well, you would stick it into anything-"

"ROBIN!" Vlad slammed his pint glass down on the table. For a vampire who slept around, he was being surprisingly priggish.

Robin shrugged apologetically. "Mate, I'm simply trying to make the point that you're both screwed up, self-loathing idiots who are incapable of conducting a proper relationship with anyone normal let alone each other." He took a calm sip of his cider before finally looking directly at Vlad and promptly wished he hadn't. The Grand High Vampire was turning a curious shade of grey, his eyes gleaming blood red, fangs extended, in fact he looked so furious that Robin couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. As Vlad's anger faded into confusion, Robin's giggles only became all the more hysterical. This reverse psychology lark was _fun_.

* * *

Voices rose and fell in perfect harmony, the beauty and purity of the music filling every space in the large church from the vaulting ceiling to the highly polished pews. If you closed your eyes, you could easily become lost in the darkness, the notes sweeping you away from reality to a place of wonder where there were no such things as pain or ugliness. As the last strains of the music faded away, Scarlett lingered in the darkness. As her eyes fluttered open, she couldn't help but feel a jolt of surprise at finding herself in the familiar surroundings of the Church.

She sighed blissfully. "If there are choirs in heaven, they must surely sing that."

Bertrand raised a cynical eyebrow. "I don't imagine I'll ever find out."

Despite his words, Scarlett noted that he was still applauding vigorously.

* * *

Vlad downed his glass of whiskey. "But it's not that easy," he complained to an unsympathetic Robin who was swilling the amber liquid around and around in his short glass.

Robin gave a Vlad a scathing look. "Of course, it is." He sloshed some whiskey onto the wooden table. "It's as easy or as complicated as you want to make it."

Vlad laughed sarcastically as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another generous measure. "Whatever."

"Look, clearly I'm the more successful one when it comes to relationships so you should listen to me." Robin took a delicate sip of his drink and hastily set it down with a grimace. Whiskey was vile.

"More successful?" Vlad sniggered nastily. "You've only ever had one girlfriend!"

Robin smiled with self-satisfaction. "Exactly," he said smugly. "I've never been dumped." Vlad wasn't convinced that this was necessarily a fair assessment of success or failure but Robin had that glint in his eye that he said he wasn't taking no for an answer. It was the same glint that persuaded Vlad to hypnotise the Branaghs into believing that they were vampires. Resigning himself to a lecture, he kept quiet and reached for the whiskey again.

"You know mate, women are not complicated creatures," Robin leant forward over the table, his voice lowered as if he were bestowing a great secret onto Vlad. "They just want to be treated nicely. Compliment them. Buy them flowers when you haven't done something wrong, just to surprise them. Bring home their favourite chocolates now and again just to say you've been thinking of them. Treat them well and they will treat you well." Robin paused for a moment, an intense frown creasing his forehead. "Except for the ones who don't like that. Coz they're well confusing. But Scarlett is one of the simple ones anyway. So yeah, my point is, just tell her you're sorry, that you want a second chance and you will treat her like a princess."

Vlad suspected that all the cider was making his friend a little tipsy. He knocked back another glass of whiskey before replying. "In other words I should _grovel_?" He emphasised the last word with disgust.

Robin nodded unabashedly. "Yeah."

Vlad sneered contemptuously. "I am the Chosen One, I do not grovel..." He glared at Robin as a wide grin began to spread across his friend's face. Vlad knew that grin all too well – it told him that he was turning into his Dad. "Don't even say a word," he warned Robin with a sulky pout.

Robin's grin widened even further. "Wasn't gonna."

* * *

Bertrand wore a pained expression as Scarlett handed him the glass of red liquid. "You could pretend it's something else." She knew the suggestion was unhelpful but she couldn't seem to stop the words from falling out of her mouth in time. Bertrand took the glass and glowered down at it. "Are you sure you're ok?" Scarlett gestured around at their surroundings. "I'm so sorry, I just completely forgot about the whole religious thing."

Bertrand took the tiniest sip possible of his wine. "It isn't an issue. So long as a member of the faith invites me in."

Scarlett was still cringing with embarrassment at her mistake. There was still so much that she had to learn about vampires. It didn't help that there were so many conflicting superstitions and theories. Vlad didn't seem comfortable discussing vampire matters with her; it was as if he thought his vampirism would repel her if she knew too much. Also, what he did manage to tell her, wasn't always true. Take reflections for example, Vlad had said that vampires didn't have any; a born vampire merged with their evil reflection at sixteen, a convert or half-fang gradually lost their reflection as their body lost the fight against their maker's blood. It was a nice piece of mythology but it was blatantly untrue. She had seen Vlad's reflection many times. For all of his suspicions and dark mutterings, his reflection seemed just as ordinary and as harmless as hers. Then there was the garlic thing; folklore was pretty consistent about garlic, it was an effective weapon against vampires yet Vlad had eaten more than enough of Charlie's cooking for Scarlett to know that the smelly herb had absolutely no effect on him.

With difficulty, she forced her thoughts away from Vlad. Taking a fortifying sip of her own wine, she watched Bertrand's gaze flicker around the church. There was a kind of sadness in his face as he studied the stained glass windows, the beautiful icons and the crucifix fixed against the wall. She wondered how much religion had influenced his life. After all, if he was over four hundred years old, he must have lived through some very turbulent times, entire decades where men and women were willing to burn books, religious buildings, even each other over theological disputes.

As if he sensed her scrutiny, Bertrand tore his gaze away from the stained glass window. "It's been centuries since I set foot in a religious building."He feigned another sip of his wine.

"It's a beautiful building but I suspect that it hardly compares to Notre Dame." Scarlett's smile faltered as Bertrand's face darkened with sudden displeasure.

"Why would you say that?" His words came out in an accusatory snarl.

"Paris is your birthplace." Scarlett attempted a casual shrug. She always felt that with Bertrand it was important to at least keep up an appearance of not being afraid. Her pounding heart would always contradict her calm manner but that was an unfortunate disadvantage when it came to vampires.

Bertrand was still frowning. "You ask too many questions." It was just as much of a warning as it was a statement. "I'm curious though," his voice became dangerously soft, a malicious gleam entering his eye, "You never question me about Vlad."

"Why would I?" Scarlett asked in surprise.

"I was with him during his formative years; I was his tutor and closest advisor, I guided him through the transition from teenage boy to ruler of his kind." This time Bertrand really did take a gulp of the red wine. "All of his previous conquests practically begged me for inside information. They all wanted to know how to ensnare the Chosen One."

Scarlett managed not to wince at the use of the word 'conquests'. It was barely better than 'pets.' She wasn't sure whether Bertrand's use of language was down to his status as a vampire, his considerable age or whether it was simply an attempt to provoke her temper. She would have to find out at a later stage, now was not the most appropriate time and place to get into an argument. And it would definitely be an argument if the set of Bertrand's jaw was anything to go by. "I think most of your time is consumed by Vlad. It must be nice to be asked about yourself for a change."

Her answer seemed to throw the vampire off balance. He looked as if he were about to say something but then changed his mind. He drained his glass with one swift gulp. His voice was gruffer than usual when he spoke. "We should return to our seats."

**Chapter 58 teaser**

'_If anything the nice police ladies seemed more amused than annoyed at Vlad.'_


	60. Chapter 58

_**Apologies for posting later than usual. Life has been a bit crazy this past week and it's going to continue being insane for the next few weeks but fingers crossed for good reasons. I'm not sure if I will be able to post next Saturday as I have a lot of catching up to do so apologies in advance for that. Real life – eh?! **_

_**In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I promise to catch up with reading/reviewing/posting very soon.**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 58**

"_Coz maaybeeeee, you're gonna be the one that saaaves me, And after aaallll, you're my wonderwaaalll!" _Since these seemed to be the only lyrics of the song that Vlad actually remembered, he just kept singing them on repeat. Robin realised that it had probably been a mistake to let Vlad finish off an entire bottle of whiskey on his own at the Turf. It couldn't be the vodka shots that they had at the Purple Turtle because Robin had downed them too and he felt perfectly fine. Well, his vision was a bit blurry, but that was probably down to all the studying he had been doing lately.

Negotiating the streets of Oxford on a Saturday night was difficult enough without a drunken vampire trying to serenade every female that walked past. Including the ones dressed in police uniform. Fortunately for Vlad, Robin was a smooth talker; after all he had years of experience in wheedling his way out of awkward situations with the police. If anything the nice police ladies seemed more amused than annoyed at Vlad. Robin suspected Vlad's good looks had more than helped in that department. Still, it had taken a full half hour to drag Vlad down a street which really should have only been a five minute walk and Robin was absolutely gagging for a kebab. Also, he wasn't so sure that all this fresh air was good for him. He was beginning to feel a bit dizzy himself. He blamed it on the small print in all those books Scarlett kept giving him to read.

* * *

Bertrand knew that he shouldn't have drank that filthy breather poison. Vampire bodies were not designed for the consumption of alcohol. Although, on reflection, considering the way breathers behaved after a few drinks, it appeared that they weren't exactly designed for it either. Oh it was all very well consuming the alcoholic blood of your victim; that was perfectly harmless, even a lightweight had to drain at least a few inebriated breathers... However, this drinking it neat business, consuming it the breather way, it was the equivalent of a breather chugging down pure ethanol. Between the glass of wine and the hauntingly beautiful music he had just enjoyed, it was no wonder that he was feeling rather fuzzy and warmly disposed to the world. He wasn't out of control, no Bertrand du Fortunesa was never out of control, he was just mildly intoxicated. The sensations could easily be brought under control with a light snack. Preferably someone with a high cholesterollevel, all those deliciously fatty proteins would really hit the spot right now.

"But the way the music swells, the slightest hint of violins at that crucial moment and the mixture of bass, alto and soprano as they rise and fall," the blonde by his side was practically skipping along, her eyes sparkling with happiness, "Doesn't your heart just soar with joy?"

She turned her radiant smile on him and the wine must have been stronger than Bertrand had estimated because he found himself smiling back. "Beethoven's Ninth Symphony has its moments," he conceded, "However, if you truly want ecstasy it has to be Puccini's Madame Butterfly." Bertrand's eyes closed for a moment as he recalled the sheer bliss of hearing his favourite opera for the first time. "Now that _is_ passion."

"Opera?" The blonde sounded dubious.

Bertrand opened his eyes again to find that she was wrinkling up her nose. He gave her an incredulous look. "You don't like opera?" He stepped around a lamp-post with far too much speed causing a couple of party-goers to blink uncertainly as they walked past. "We shall have to remedy that."

The blonde giggled. "Oh shall we?"

She was teasing him again. She really shouldn't be doing that, it was disrespectful but he wasn't inclined to do anything about it. At least, not tonight. It had been a surprisingly pleasant evening; at first the Church had brought back some memories that he would rather forget but after a few notes he found himself lost in the beauty of the music. The blonde was surprisingly good company; it was very rare to find someone who shared his love of history and music. It was even rarer to find anyone who was interested in him purely for himself as opposed to his connection with the Chosen One. Besides, the whole point of this exercise was to gain the blonde's trust. He needed an ally to win back Vlad's favour and he suspected that the slayer-boy would prove much more difficult to ingratiate himself with. The Branagh boy was fiercely loyal to Vlad, he had experienced the treachery of vampires and Bertrand was almost certain that Vlad had told him the truth about Budapest. The blonde, on the other hand, was much too trusting. It was almost a pity that Vlad hadn't taught her better by now.

"Fancy some chips?" The object of his thoughts was still smiling up at him.

Bertrand managed a half scowl before the tantalising smell of grease and fat overwhelmed him. Since he couldn't catch himself a nice, juicy breather he may as well attempt to attain sobriety the breather way. "Do any of them have mushy peas?" he asked hopefully as the blonde led him towards a street littered with kebab vans.

* * *

Sarah swept the gold powder over Tamara's eyelids. "You can't let her win like this," she said firmly. "You shouldn't feel like you have to hide in your room." Capping her make-up brush, she reached for the mascara and began the delicate task of darkening Tamara's eyelashes.

"Doesn't matter," Tamara mumbled listlessly.

Sarah frowned. "Of course it does!" It worried her to see her friend acting like this. Tams was feisty and vibrant, a high achiever, the sort of girl who passed all her exams with flying colours, who had a cupboard full of sports trophies and awards, who never had any problems adjusting to the high pressures and traditions of Oxford. Sarah had watched with increasing concern as the once self-assured Tamara became tearful and withdrawn over the course of this term. The old Tamara would have shook back her gorgeous, silky hair and laughed in the face of anyone who thought they could intimidate her. This new version of her friend, huddled up in a baggy hoodie, afraid to venture into the college bar because she might meet that blonde bitch made Sarah furious. Not with Tamara of course. That would be unfair. No, Sarah was fuming with Scarlett. How dare she treat a friend like this? All Tamara had done was kiss Vlad and that was before Scarlett had even gotten with him. Oh it was all very well, Scarlett acting all sweetness and light in public but to hear the things that she had been saying to Tamara when no-one else was looking. Thankfully, Tamara had the courage to tell some of them what was going on behind their backs. Sarah had always known there was something off about that Irish girl. Anyone who acted so nice had to be covering up something pretty nasty.

Tamara glanced with disinterest in the mirror. "To be honest Sarah, I just want to sleep."

Sarah practically shoved a glass of wine at her. "Just one drink in the bar," she coaxed, "You'll feel so much better if you get out of this room. Even if it's just for half an hour."

Reluctantly, Tamara clinked her glass against Sarah's.

* * *

"Fancy another?"

Jessie lifted her head up from her mobile to find Vlad Count sliding a glass over to her. It was obvious that he was on the wrong side of tipsy. There was a strong smell of whiskey on his breath, a wildness in his eyes and he was being just a tad too careful about how he pronounced his words. Despite his obvious good looks, Jessie had always thought that there was something unsettling about Vlad Count, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Depends." She curled her fingers around the glass. "What's the price?"

Vlad moved gracefully onto the bar stool beside her. "Nothing." He raised his glass to hers. "Just one friend buying another a drink."

"Hmm." Jessie took a sip. Vodka and Diet Coke. Her usual poison. Well, that was one thing you could say for Count, he paid attention to the little details. "So, it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Scarlett has just walked in here with the fittest specimen of manhood I've ever seen?" She cocked her glass in the direction of the booth where Scarlett and her companion had just taken their seats.

Vlad knocked back the rest of his drink in one swift gulp. "No," he answered abruptly.

Jessie let her gaze trail over the man with Scarlett. He was simply divine. She could have quite happily gazed at that face all night. However, Scarlett's attention wasn't focused on the gorgeous man by her side. Instead, Jessie could see her friend glancing in Count's direction, a look of sadness on her features.

The sound of glass clinking made Jessie's gaze return to the bar. Max, the bartender, was pouring out shots. He gave Jessie an apologetic look as she raised her eyebrows inquiringly. Vlad nudged the first shot glass towards her. His lips quirked upwards in a smirk as she reached for the drink. His smugness infuriated Jessie. Just because she had accepted a drink from him didn't mean that she owed him anything.

"I don't think so." Jessie picked up the shot and carefully placed it in front of Vlad. It was worth giving up a free drink just to see the look of surprise on his face. "You're not my type."

Vlad chuckled at that. "Oh really?" He leant forward, his lips parting in a smile that was strangely predatory. "And what is your type?"

Jessie cast a meaningful look downwards at his groin. "Not male." She deliberately toyed with the straw in her drink. "Now, if you were Ingrid..."

Vlad tossed back the shot, he didn't even wince at the sourness of the alcoholic mixture, before sliding another shot glass over to her. "Some people are," he paused for a moment, letting his gaze flicker over the shortness of her skirt and the plunging neckline of her top, "_flexible_."

Jessie shoved the glass back in his direction causing some of the bright green liquid to spill across the counter. "I don't think so Vladders," she snapped. "Just because I choose to dress like this doesn't mean you have the right to hit on me. And I'm not stupid, I know you're only doing this to make Scarlett jealous." She shook her head in disbelief. "You really are a nasty piece of work Count. Trying to cop off with one of her mates just to get back at her. Well, you can forget about dragging me into all this bullshit." Snatching up her clutch bag, Jessie jumped down off the bar stool. A shiver went through her as Vlad's hand grasped her elbow. His touch was cold, so unnaturally cold, she turned around to tell him off and found herself caught in the intensity of his gaze. His eyes glittered green in the low lighting of the bar, her grip slackened on her bag, she found herself moving towards the bar counter, her hand reaching out for the drink she had rejected just moments before.

"Sorry Jess," Suddenly, Robin was tugging Vlad away from her. "Mind if I borrow Vlad for a moment?" He didn't wait for an answer as he pulled Count away from the bar, hissing a stream of words quite fiercely into his ear.

Jessie just stared after them in confusion, barely managing to hold back an enormous yawn. For some reason, she felt unbelievably sleepy.

* * *

"What?" Vlad asked belligerently, "I was only going to make her flirt with me!"

Robin was wearing a look of exasperation. "Mate, you can't do that." He waved vaguely in the direction of Jessie and the bar. "And it's not going to help you get-" Robin let out a long-suffering sigh as Vlad pulled free of his grasp and stormed over to the exit where Bertrand was politely helping Scarlett with her coat. "Vlad!" He hurried after his best friend. He was never allowing Vlad to drink whiskey again. Clearly, he couldn't handle it.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Scarlett gave Vlad an icy look. "It's none of your business."

Bertrand shook his head. "Actually, it is," he corrected Scarlett quietly. "We are going to Scarlett's quarters-"

Vlad could feel his fangs aching to descend. "I don't think so," he snarled viciously, jealousy causing his eyes to darken and his voice to deepen.

Scarlett tilted her chin defiantly. "Bertrand is hungry," she began in a cold voice.

"And you thought you'd just offer him your neck?" Vlad spat the words out, his anger making him blind to the fact that they were in a crowded bar and people were beginning to watch their confrontation with fascination. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He didn't even notice when Bertrand clicked his fingers causing the rest of the room to freeze. "It's all 'poor, lovely, little Bertrand' with you. Can't you see what's right in front of you? He's a vicious, lying, murderous beast! He would drain you without a second thought if you weren't under my protection. I don't understand you. You dumped me because I was too evil for you and then you jump right into Bertrand's coffin! He's killed thousands of people, he's more vicious and cruel than I-"

"I didn't dump you."

Despite, or perhaps, because of her words being a whisper, they broke through the red mist of Vlad's anger. Scarlett looked up at him, her eyes full of hurt and surprise at his words. He found himself faltering.

"You can't possibly think," Bertrand looked completely aghast. "Me? With a breather?" He gave Scarlett the sort of look most people reserved for maggots. His mouth twisted into a grimace as his face filled with revulsion at the mere thought of associating with a breather in that manner.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Thanks Bertrand. You know, if you tried a little harder, you might actually sound disgusted." There was a hint of humour in her voice which showed she wasn't particularly upset by his words. She turned her attention back to Vlad; there was only the slightest tremor in her voice when she spoke again. "I have soy blood in my room. That's why I was taking Bertrand there."

If Vlad had been human, he would have been the colour of an overripe tomato at this point. This was definitely one of those times where he was grateful for his inability to blush. Bertrand's reaction to his accusation would, in another time and place, have been amusing but right now his ex-tutor was irrelevant. It wasn't so much Scarlett's words but the way in which she had said them. She sounded so hurt, so forlorn that a spark of hope ignited inside Vlad's heart. "But you were going to?" He hated the way he sounded so plaintive but stakes and garlic he needed to know for certain. "Dump me?" He watched as Scarlett bit her lip, her eyes becoming suspiciously shiny. He could feel the pain beginning afresh in his chest as she finally raised her gaze to meet his.

"No," she said softly, "Of course not."

Vlad swallowed hard. "Scarlett," he began, his voice thick with emotion but it was too late. She had already turned her back on him and was hurrying out of the bar, her heels clicking against the stone steps outside.

A sharp elbow poked him in the side. "Well, go on." Robin nodded his head in the direction of the steps. "Go after her. Stop whining and start grovelling." He slapped Vlad on the back in encouragement. Almost instantly, he found his hand whipping through empty space as Vlad sped off. There was a decisive snap which caused the noise and movement of the college bar to resume. Apart from a few puzzled stares in their direction, it was as if the past couple of minutes had never happened. "Bertrand?" Robin looked around for the other vampire but there was no sight of the former tutor. With a resigned sigh, Robin plodded over to the bar. Well, somebody had to drink all the shots that Vlad had ordered.

* * *

"Scarlett! Wait!" Vlad knew he could have caught up with her before she even had a chance to draw breath but somehow it felt like that wasn't playing fair. Inwardly, he scoffed at the sentiment. When it came to sex or relationships, he had lost all his idealism about playing nicely a long time ago. Still, for some reason, he decided against using his super speed as he ran across the quad.

Scarlett froze at the sound of his voice. He could see her shoulders move up and down as she took a deep breath before turning around to face him. The quad was half lit, half in shadows, golden pools of light spilling out of the windows onto the centuries old stones. Scarlett stood just on the edge of a square of light, perhaps it was a deliberate choice but even without the light, Vlad could see the glimmer of tearstains on her cheeks. "What do you want?" The words should have sounded defiant, angry even but instead she seemed oddly defeated. After the past few days of seeing her laugh and sparkle, of being resentful and bitter, Vlad suddenly found that this, seeing her in pain, was so much worse.

"Did you mean it?" He took a couple of wary steps forward, worried that she would move away from him. "That you weren't going to dump me?"

Scarlett sighed despairingly. "Does it matter?"

Vlad stepped closer again. "More than anything."

The conviction in his voice made her look up at him. He heard her heartbeat falter and then accelerate, he noticed her sharp intake of breath, observed the darkness of her eyes as she seemed to consider his words. He struggled not to push her, to start demanding answers in his desperation to get her back. Finally, she gave him a slow nod of confirmation.

"But you were so angry!" The words burst out of his mouth before Vlad could stop them. "You pushed me away. You didn't want me to touch you. I thought..." He trailed off at that point as he watched realisation dawn in Scarlett's eyes.

"You thought I was going to dump you and you'd get in there first." There was a sharp edge to Scarlett's voice as she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "You idiot!" It surprised Vlad that his immediate reaction to her words was relief. He would far rather have an angry Scarlett threatening to stake him and calling him names rather than one crying with sadness. Before he could plead his case, Scarlett continued, flashes of her fiery temper coming to the fore. "I was furious with you, I still am furious with you but I wasn't going to finish our relationship over it. People in relationships fight all the time, it doesn't have to mean that they are going to break up!" Scarlett gave him a look that was half-annoyed, half amused. Vlad realised he was grinning. "Stop it." She looked away from him but he could see the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm sorry." Vlad stepped into the light so that she could see his grin fading away. "I'm so sorry. Take me back." He could only hope that she saw the sincerity on his face. "Please Scarlett." He held his hand out to her, his heart aching with the fear of rejection.

A look of apprehension flitted across Scarlett's face. "You're just drunk," she protested half-heartedly.

Vlad's denial was automatic. "No, I'm not."

Scarlett gave him a cynical look.

"OK, I am," he admitted begrudgingly. "But that has to mean I'm telling the truth." He gave her a hopeful smile and edged closer. "Drunk people can't lie. Right?"

Warmth and electricity shot through him as she placed her hand in his. Vlad wrapped his fingers tightly around hers, still afraid that she would pull away. "Come on. Let's get you sober," she replied softly.

**Chapter 58**

'"_Stay away," he snarled in warning.'_


	61. Chapter 59

_**Thanks so much for the reviews! Apologies for not posting last week, life has been rather frantic but this is an extra long chapter to make it up to you. I'm going to be focusing on Vlad/Scarlett in the next couple of chapters so apologies in advance to any readers who don't particularly enjoy romantic/emotional scenes.**_

_**I've been a bit rubbish on FFN lately as well, I promise I am trying to catch up on my reading/reviews.**_

_**Thanks for sticking with me!**_

_**xo **_

**Chapter 59**

A cry of pain escaped Tamara's lips as her body impacted against cold stone. She choked slightly from the pressure being applied to her throat, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dramatic change in light, shivers racing through her at the sudden drop in temperature. Her mind was struggling to catch up. One thing was certain though. The vivid blue eyes staring into hers belonged to her angel.

When it clicked into place, the memory was like an emotional assault. One minute, she had been entering the college bar, a gasp of shock exiting her lips as she saw him standing there alongside that evil bitch. It had been a week of agony for her, not knowing what had really happened that night at the History Faculty, where he was or even if he was still alive and then she just walked in on him cosying up to her worst enemy. She found herself snarling at him, raising a hand to scratch his beautiful, treacherous face. As he deftly caught it, her other hand curled into a small fist and pounded against his chest. The bastard. The bloody sodding bastard. She took satisfaction in the way he gasped with pain. Good, she thought viciously. He deserved to be hurt. He deserved to feel the pain that he had put her through.

Impossibly sharp teeth flashed in the darkness as he snarled back. His other hand caught her fist, he forced her fingers to uncurl before slamming her hand into the wall causing white hot pain to sear through the damaged flesh. A smile of satisfaction danced on his lips as she whimpered with pain. "You're a medical student," the calmness of his voice made it all the more chilling, "therefore, I require you to have the use of both hands. Still." He grinded her hand further into the wall, an action which sent another wave of pain crashing through her hand and up her arm. "A few bruises should remind you of your place." He left go of her abruptly, his face dispassionate as she crumbled to the icy ground, clutching her damaged hand.

Tamara gazed up at him with tears in her eyes. "Where have you been?" she sobbed.

"Doesn't matter," he replied in a dismissive tone. He knelt down beside her, a glint of silver reflecting the dim light of the wall lamp. "Now," His voice softened, his strange accent becoming more pronounced, his eyes were almost black with something that seemed close to lust. "I'm hungry."

* * *

_Her scarf was made of red silk, it felt warm and soft against his fingers as he slowly tugged it away from her neck. He let the vivid material float to the floor before moving forward to slowly unbutton her coat. He heard her heartbeat racing in anticipation, felt the heat of her gaze as it trailed over his body up to his lips. Impatience got the better of her and she closed the gap between them, her hands gliding up around his neck, her lips pressing against his, her mouth open and eager for him. She was as hot and as sweet as he had remembered, he felt like he could lose himself in her scent, she tasted so damn delicious. The way she was moving against him made him groan aloud. He tore the coat from her, tossing it carelessly to the floor, surged forward so that they both tumbled onto the bed. She was his..._

"There you go. Toast."

Vlad's head jerked up as the plate clinked against the coffee table. Despite having no pulse, his body was certainly doing its best to blush. It felt like his face was on fire with embarrassment as Scarlett sat next to him.

She handed him a slice of toast. "It might help soak up some of the alcohol."

Taking the slice from her, Vlad noticed that she was no longer wearing the scarf or indeed her coat. Well, that particular fantasy would have to wait for another night. Funny, though, he couldn't actually remember her taking them off. Or the kettle boiling. Also, the entire room seemed to be spinning around. It was very tempting just to sink back into the sofa and close his eyes again. He felt fine though. No, actually, he felt great. All sort of happy and relaxed. The only real problem was that he had to really concentrate on Scarlett's face just to make out her features clearly. Which was a pity because she really was very pleasing to the eye. It felt like years rather than days since she had smiled at him like that... The corners of his vision kept going blurry but that was to be expected after all he was just tired, drained from all the emotional ... Ah fog it. He was sloshed.

* * *

The next ten minutes or hours, Vlad couldn't be certain of time in his current condition, passed in a bit of blur. It was as if all the alcohol, that he had previously consumed, decided to hit him in one swift blow. He had closed his eyes briefly, just for a few moments because the constant whirling of his surroundings had been making him dizzy. When he re-opened them, the lighting was soft and dim leaving most of the room in darkness. Scarlett's scent lingered in the air but the room felt empty, abandoned. Slowly, cautiously, Vlad lifted his head. He felt relief upon finding that his vision and stomach seemed to have resumed normal service. He tried to raise himself onto one elbow but realised that his limbs were entangled in some sort of heavy material. Glancing down, he realised that Scarlett had covered him with a blanket. The thought made him smile. Vampires didn't need blankets to keep them warm but he appreciated the thought.

Vlad slowly raised himself into a sitting position and took in his surroundings more carefully. The large room was lit only by the antique glass lamp on Scarlett's desk. The stained glass cast shades of coloured light across the walls. Her laptop was humming softly in the background, photos were flitting across the screen suggesting that it hadn't been used for a while. The teapot was sitting on the coffee table, its lid laying neatly beside it. Her coat was no longer hanging up on the door but her red scarf had been discarded on the armchair. Mmm, the things he would like to use that scarf for...

But he felt too aggrieved with Scarlett to indulge in such thoughts. Where was she? She should have been here. She had abandoned him. Took her chance and left him when he was unconscious, when he wasn't able to stop her, to try and persuade her to give him another chance. If she really cared for him, she wouldn't have walked out on him like this. Leaving him all alone when he was clearly unwell and in need of her affections.

Suddenly he was struck by a horrific thought. Had he done something to make her leave? It felt natural to look for blame in himself and it certainly didn't help that his last lucid memories were of her crying in the quad. Getting back to her room and what happened afterwards was all a bit vague. Flashes of the night were coming back to him. He could recall Scarlett kneeling to untie the laces of his boots; looking up at him sternly as he mumbled something about liking her at his feet. He had promptly tried to make amends by confiding that he would be more than happy to kneel before her. Especially given the sexual potential involved in that position. Despite his annoyance, Vlad couldn't help grinning at the memory of her blushing. And then there had been coffee and toast at some point. He remembered the hot buttery smell, normally he loved toast but right now the thought of breather food made him feel nauseous.

His stomach rumbled loudly in the quietness of the empty room. Another wave of nausea slammed through him. Only this time, he recognised it for what it was. Hunger. His throat tightened as a familiar ache took hold of him. Fogging hell -blood cravings. It had been so long since he had experienced them. Months in fact. He foolishly thought that he finally had them under control, that he had mastered that most basic of vampiric needs. The hunger gnawed at his insides, dark images and vivid red flooded his mind, his fangs ached with longing. The onslaught was so sudden, so unexpected, that he found himself almost shaking with need. But he had been fine, he had been in control! Curling up into a tight, protective ball, he tried to concentrate on something else, something boring, Council protocol for by-elections, the cross-referencing of building repairs in Oxford, ancient vampire law on property, anything so long as it didn't involve blood. Thick, delicious, rich blood... Oh for Lucifer's sake!

The soft click of the door penetrated through the painful haze of Vlad's bloodlust. A heartbeat, strong and healthy, began to pound noisily in his ears. Not now. Please not now. Not when he was like this. He was too close to the edge, too hungry to act like little more than an animal. He should have made her wear statsis spray. He should have insisted. He always made sure that his breather companions wore the spray; it reduced the temptation down to a tolerable level. But he had been selfish with Scarlett, too caught up in his fantasies of being normal, of pretending that he was just an ordinary student, of trying to downplay his monstrous nature to ever bring up the subject. His selfishness had just put her in danger.

As he lifted his head from his arms, he could just about make out the expression of shock on her face. "Stay away," he snarled in warning. He heard her heartbeat falter for a moment. Could almost sense her fear. Self-loathing filled him. She was frightened of him. Well, she should be. Unable to meet her gaze, he sank his head down into his arms again and willed her to run away.

Instead, Scarlett's footsteps moved towards him. "Vlad?" Her voice was hesitant. "What's wrong?"

He felt like laughing at her concern; didn't she understand that she was meant to flee from him? A warm hand pressed against his shoulder, even in his current state, Vlad felt the electric spark that her touch always seem to invoke for him. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself down and unwittingly inhaled her scent. Lavender. Vanilla. Cocoa butter. The distinctive, light perfume that she wore. They were strangely soothing; he could feel his throat becoming less constricted, the ache subsiding slightly. It helped of course that Scarlett didn't smell like food. His Dad's words came back to him: '_Don't sink your fangs into the unknown.' _He would have to get to the bottom of that. Amongst other things. He realised that his thoughts were beginning to become vaguely coherent. Good. It was a sign that he was regaining control over the urge to feed.

Scarlett sat on the sofa beside him, her hand rubbing calming circles on his back. He raised his head, ready to flinch if she shrieked at the sight of his fangs or the unnatural blackness of his eyes. She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening even further. He scowled fiercely at her. "I'm hungry."

"Oh." Confusingly, Scarlett seemed relieved at his words. "Well, that's nothing to worry about. We can fix that." She chuckled at his look of bewilderment. "You've just got the munchies. I can't resist chips and cheese after a few drinks myself."

For a second, Vlad just stared at her. For someone so intelligent, Scarlett could really miss the obvious. When he finally spoke, he did so very slowly. "Scarlett, "I'm a vampire. When I get the munchies, it's not chips that I'm craving." Hunger rippled through him again and he found himself closing his eyes in pain. It seemed to intensify as Scarlett moved away from him, her weight slipping off the sofa. Yes, of course, she was leaving him. He should have felt smug, triumphant that he had finally proven his point; instead he was left with a hollow feeling in his chest.

There was the sound of plastic twisting and snapping. The smell of 'O negative' wafted into the air. Vlad's eyes snapped open. "Will soy blood do?" Scarlett's voice was remarkably calm as she held out the bottle.

Vlad snatched it greedily, acting more on instinct than reason. He took deep, shuddering gulps of the red liquid, almost choking in his haste to quell the vicious hunger pains which were twisting his stomach into knots. After several swallows of the soy blood, he could feel his mind beginning to clear, his fangs starting to ache less, his stomach becoming settled and content. He realised that he had almost drained the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. In his eagerness, a trickle of soy blood had escaped from his mouth and was steadily creeping down his chin. He moved to wipe it away, feeling all too conscious of Scarlett's gaze upon him. What must he look like right now? Black eyed, bloodied fangs, he was every inch the monster that she had called him.

Scarlett tore a tissue from a box sitting on the coffee table. Leaning forward, she carefully dabbed the soy blood off his skin. "Do you need more?" She gestured at the near empty bottle clutched in his hands.

Vlad nodded reluctantly.

* * *

It was terrifying to see Vlad in this state, he looked so ill, his eyes were rimmed with, his pale skin almost grey and the way he was almost huddled up in pain... The sight tore at her heart. For a brief, horrific moment she feared the worst. Could vampires die from alcohol poisoning? Sometimes, it seemed as if Vlad was determined to find out. Not that she had any right to judge him on his self-destructive tendencies.

She watched as Vlad consumed another bottle of soy blood, this time at a considerably slower pace. He paused and glared at her over the top of the bottle. "Where were you?" he demanded in an accusatory tone.

Scarlett raised her eyebrows slightly. "Checking on Robin," she replied, allowing a note of disapproval to creep into her reply.

Her answer seemed to mollify him. "Is he alright?" Vlad took another hefty gulp of his soy blood.

Scarlett smiled wryly. "For now." When she left Robin in the chaos of his room, he had been trying to drunk dial Charlie and declare his undying admiration for her general fitness. "I tried to check on Bertrand," she began casually, knowing that Vlad's reaction was unlikely to be favourable. Still, his comments about her and the older vampire needed to be addressed. "He seems to have disappeared." She watched as Vlad scowled into his drink. His jealousy confused her; she wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. Certainly, she had done her best to provoke him earlier by flirting with the older vampire but she honestly hadn't expected him to take it seriously. Wasn't it obvious that he was the only male, vampire or otherwise, that she wanted to be with? "There's nothing going on there. I promise."

Vlad glanced up at her, cynicism written all over his gorgeous face. "Really?"

"Yes," Scarlett answered firmly. She met his gaze steadily, hoping that he would somehow be able to sense the honesty in her answer.

Something seemed to harden in Vlad. A sneer began to form on his finely cut features. "Then, why have you been visiting him?" He set his bottle down loudly on the coffee table. "Bringing him ice-cream? Constantly sticking up for him? Inviting him on dates?" Vlad gave her a furious look. "You have no idea what he did to my family. To my sister."

"No, I don't," Scarlett replied hotly. "Because you wouldn't tell me!" She took a deep breath before trying to speak again. This time in a calm and measured manner. "Even if you had, I still would have stood up for him." She laid a hand on Vlad's arm, feeling grateful that he didn't try to twist away from her touch. "Don't you see Vlad? Bertrand had nobody else to defend him. No matter what he has done, he deserves to have at least one person sticking up for him. If you were in his position, alone, in pain, up against someone considerably more powerful than you, somebody who could snuff your life out like a candle, wouldn't you want someone to fight for you?" Scarlett could hear how impassioned her voice had become and inwardly she winced; she didn't want to lecture Vlad, she just wanted him to understand where she was coming from. If she was the sort of person who could turn her back on someone vulnerable and in need of help, they wouldn't even be having this conversation. She had stepped in to defend Vlad from that slayer when he had been unconscious on the college lawn. Why then, was it so bad for her to do the same for Bertrand?

A troubled look flitted across Vlad's face before he could turn his head away from her. He gazed down intently at his socks. They were grey with little bats. Strangely adorable for someone who was supposed to be the ultimate ruler of vampirekind. "So that's it?" he asked gruffly. "You don't feel anything else?"

"I like Bertrand," Scarlett replied truthfully. "I hope that we can become friends." She moved closer to Vlad on the sofa. "He's intelligent, educated, fascinating," She brushed her hand against Vlad's, "But he's not you." Her fingers gently laced themselves with his. The way Vlad looked up at her made her heart ache. She felt as if she was standing on the edge of cliff, watching the rock crumble beneath her and wondering if she should just go ahead and jump. This was what terrified her about Vlad. Not his fangs or his powers. Not the darkness that she had glimpsed in his soul. No, it was the emotional attachment forming between them, the way he made her feel, this happiness, this sense of belonging, that couldn't be real. It couldn't last, not for someone like her.

Vlad's fingers wrapped themselves tightly around hers. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

For some reason his apology made tears rush to her eyes. She didn't doubt for one minute that it was heartfelt. She squeezed his hand even tighter. "Me too." Her voice was slightly choked. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. I should have realised that you were hurting, that you needed... I'm sorry that I punched you." Her cheeks began to burn at the memory of her actions. "I've been feeling so guilty about that."

A tiny smile formed at the edges of Vlad's mouth. "It's ok."

Scarlett shook her head in disagreement. "No, it's not. I broke your nose."

Vlad shrugged. "It healed in seconds," he said dismissively.

"But if I had been the other way around," Scarlett argued, "If you had punched me... I don't see how it's any less unforgivable just because it's a woman doing the hitting."

Vlad smiled grimly. "I did threaten you with a fireball."

"True," Scarlett conceded unwillingly. "But, I also threatened to stake you." She cringed with embarrassment. As if she could ever have staked Vlad. She was pretty certain that some of the most accomplished slayers in the world had tried and failed in that respect. And they didn't even have romantic feelings for him.

"Only after I threatened to bite you," Vlad reminded her. He wasn't exactly willing to rake over the past but he felt that it was only fair to remind her that they had both been in the wrong that day. Again, he was bemused by his impulse to play fairly. Where was this sudden rush of idealism coming from?

Scarlett began to laugh. "Oh Vlad!" The questioning look in his eyes made her giggle even more. "We sound like we belong on the Jeremy Kyle show."

Vlad sniggered before growing serious again. "We're not that bad yet." There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Are we?"

Scarlett had to blink back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. "Not yet."

Vlad attempted another shrug. "Besides, nearly everyone threatens to stake me." He was only half-joking.

"That makes it worse," Scarlett said reprovingly. "At the very least, I could have been original." It was a tentative attempt at flirting but, judging from the lascivious grin that Vlad gave her in return, it seemed that he appreciated the effort.

"Well, in that case," Vlad's eyes were full of mischief, "Nobody has ever threatened to fuc-" Vlad cleared his throat as she gave him a stern look. "Fudge me to death," he amended hastily.

"Fudge you?" Scarlett failed to suppress her smile of amusement. "What exactly would that involve?" Her voice became slightly breathless as he moved closer to her. His other hand rose up to cup her cheek, his thumb slowly caressing her heated skin. That one tiny movement sent fire coursing through her entire body.

Vlad bit his lower lip, uncertainty filling his eyes, "I could show you." It should have sounded arrogant and cocky but instead the hoarseness of his voice and the almost hesitant way in which he moved towards her made him seem shy. It was as if he was too scared of rejection to make the first move.

Scarlett found herself running a hand lightly up his arm, treasuring the feel of his firm, hard flesh beneath the thin fabric of his shirt,, moving closer to press her body against his, watching his face carefully, watching how his eyes darkened with desire, how his lips parted in anticipation. She slipped her fingers up through the silkiness of his hair, still bemoaning its shortness, heat flooding through her as she pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his mouth. She was in too deep now, she should have realised that long ago, in way too deep with this gorgeous, wonderful idiot of a vampire. "Please do," she whispered against his lips before deepening the kiss and losing herself completely.

* * *

As she slowly surfaced from dreams that she didn't care to remember, Tamara became aware of a throbbing pain in her left hand. Shifting slightly in her bed, she realised it wasn't the result of falling asleep on her arm. Her eyes fluttered open against the harsh light of her desk lamp. She froze in shock as her gaze fell upon a dark figure sitting on one of the room's armchairs. Still, only half conscious, her uninjured hand reached for something to throw at the intruder. Her hand grasped the solid, fat shape of her alarm clock, it was reasonably heavy and Tamara knew she had an excellent aim.

Unperturbed, the figure leant forward, the stark white of the lamp's bulb illuminating his face. At the sight of that sensuous mouth, those exquisite cheekbones, the black lock of hair which fell across his forehead, Tamara's fingers loosened on her potential weapon. "What happened?"

His voice was husky. "You fainted."

Tamara stifled the urge to laugh with contempt. Fainted? She had never fainted in her life. Fainting was for silly girls who skipped lunch. She had always prided herself on being fit and healthy.

"You're probably anaemic." Her angel regarded her thoughtfully, the tiniest of frowns creasing his forehead. "I recommend you take some iron tablets." He may have used the word 'recommend' but his tone made it perfectly clear that it was an order.

As Tamara sat up in her bed, she realised that he must have carried her home, undressed her and placed her in the safety and warmth of her bed. That had to mean something. She must matter to him in some way. After all, he had come back for her. He hadn't abandoned her. Perhaps, he did care for her; perhaps he just didn't know how to express it.

"Were you watching me sleep?" She tried to sound coquettish. Inwardly, she smirked as he nodded in reply. That could almost be considered romantic.

"I need you to be well rested." He took a seat on the edge of her bed and raised his hand to trail cold fingertips down her throat. The caress made her shiver with pleasure, heat began to pool inside her at the look of desire on his face. He wanted her; she knew it, a part of him at least wanted her, maybe even needed her. There was still everything to play for; she could still make him hers.

**Chapter 60 teaser**

_'You're playing a very dangerous game.'_


	62. Author's Note February 2013

**Author's Note**

Hey all you lovely people,

Apologies for the lack of DiF updates recently but I'm afraid this is going to be a more permanent thing. I've decided that I'm going to take a break from posting chapters on a regular basis. I am not going to stop writing, I just need to take some time out to really focus on finishing up DiF as soon as possible – preferably before May! Ideally I want to finish this fic as soon as possible, start editing and posting it (hopefully returning to my Tuesday/Saturday pattern) and get cracking on the sequel. Yes, a sequel, if anyone is interested? Depending on my progress, I was planning to post an occasional chapter perhaps every fortnight or so.

I want to thank everyone who has favourited, followed and most importantly reviewed DiF so far. I hope that my decision won't cause you to stop reading and reviewing, I know other authors, far superior to me, post less regularly so I hope you can bear with me.

Thank you for all your support.

xo


	63. Chapter 60

_**Thank you for all the supportive comments and messages. Alana and Nats – I'm afraid I can't personally respond to you through a PM but your lovely words were much appreciated. **_

_**I hope you all will stick with me and this fic. I'm afraid writing is going rather slowly at the moment but it has been a while since I've updated. Hope you enjoy it!**_

_**xo **_

**Chapter 60**

Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, Vlad took a minute or two to watch as Scarlett weaved her long hair into its nightly plait. The subtle shades of gold gleamed in the soft light of her bedside lamp as her fingers nimbly twisted the strands to some resemblance of order. Vlad wished that she would wear it down more often. It was a pity to keep such beautiful hair pinned back in a harsh bun or restrained in a rigid plait. He preferred to have it loose, spilling over her shoulders, down her back and just brushing her hips. He loved to entangle his fingers in it, would love even more to see it against her bare skin.

Seemingly engrossed in her task, Scarlett started slightly as he cleared his throat. "I should probably go." He moved forward to pick up his leather jacket from the sofa.

Scarlett glanced at her alarm clock. "It's only four am," she smiled and patted the bed in a gesture for him to sit beside her. "We still have a few hours before dawn."

Vlad twisted the jacket slightly in his hands. "I know, but," he gestured at her attire of pyjamas and fluffy bed socks, "you're tired. You should get some sleep. It's alright for me; I get my snooze time in the day."

Scarlett scrutinised her plaited hair with great interest. "You could always stay here." Her voice was deliberately casual.

Vlad suppressed a smile. "Would you like me to?" He shrugged his way into the leather jacket and strolled across the room to take a seat on the edge of her bed.

Scarlett looked up from beneath her eyelashes. "Maybe."

This was one of the few times that Vlad had ever seen her completely make up free. She was so naturally pretty that he wondered why she felt the need to cover it up with powders and liquids. Sitting cross legged on the bed, her hair neatly plaited, her face slightly shiny with moisturising cream, all ready for bed in her pyjamas, she looked years younger. Perhaps, it was perverse of him but Vlad found this side of her immensely appealing. He loved being able to get this close to her, to get past the facade that she put in place for the rest of the world. He reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. "Don't you have plans?" he teased. "Dinners. Cinema trips. Concerts." He had been more than aware of her frantic schedule over the past week.

Scarlett rose onto her knees so that she could tug him towards her more easily. "No plans." Her hands ran up his chest, sliding under his leather jacket and easing it off his shoulders. Vlad dropped his other hand down onto the small of her back both to support her and press her body closer. She nipped at his earlobe, the warmth of her breath against his sensitive skin sending erotic sparks all over his body. As her tongue ran down the curve of his jaw to his pulse-point, it occurred to Vlad that he had taught her a little too well.

He tossed his jacket onto floor before gathering her into his arms, tilting her chin upwards so he could press his lips against hers. "I thought you were sleepy."

* * *

The bat swooped downwards in graceful arcs until it entered the sheltered doorway of the Banbury mansion. Wisps of smoke drifted around the edges of Dmitri's cape as he shifted back into his vampire form. He allowed himself an anxious glance out of the doorway up at the lightening sky. He had been cutting it rather fine. The stormy weather over the Irish channel had not made for a pleasant flight and he had taken a risk by waiting for the worst of the rain to subside. Still, he made it safely back to Oxford along with the information that the Grand High Vampire had requested of him.

Bertrand was waiting for him when he entered the mansion. Leaning casually against the staircase, a glass of vintage in his hand and an inquiring look in his ice-blue eyes. "I trust that you have been successful." There was only the slightest hint of a knowing smirk on his lips.

Dmitri was careful to keep his face blank. He didn't trust the former tutor even with the blood oath in place. "I answer only to His Highness," he replied curtly.

Bertrand's eyes narrowed. He took a slow, lingering sip of blood. Dmitri's stomach tightened in hunger as the unmistakable scent of Countess 1775 wafted towards him. "Quite right." Despite the softness of Bertrand's voice, there was no mistaking the malice underlying his words. Without saying anything further on the matter, the former tutor vanished off to do whatever it was that double-crossing, devious ex-advisors did during daylight hours.

Dmitri placed a protective hand over the papers hidden underneath his coat. He had an uncomfortable feeling that the French vampire was sharpening a stake in his honour.

* * *

Charlie's feet pounded the pavement in time with the beat throbbing from her headphones. It was early Saturday morning and the housing estate where she lived was relatively quiet. She had to dodge pools of vomit and abandoned beer cans from the neighbours' excesses on a Friday night. Charlie's feelings about returning to Manchester were always mixed. On the one hand, it was home, it was where her Nan lived, where she had grown up. She was fiercely proud of her accomplishments, it had taken hard work and courage to escape the grotty housing estate she came from but she would never let anyone else mouth off about it. On the other hand, there were good reasons for trying to escape. She loathed the estate, the rundown houses and flats, the graffiti sprayed everywhere, the narrow-mindedness of her neighbours who sneered at anyone who dared to be different. Worse still, their hypocrisy. Even though they sneered at Charlie and her Nan in public, they would still turn up at their back door asking for help when it suited them.

Charlie knew she shouldn't be so angry about it, that some people were always going to judge them, her especially, for being different and she was only hurting herself by holding onto the resentment that their slurs invoked. A wry smile curled up the corners of her mouth as she thought about her life at university. Oh, if only these people knew! Her Nan's abilities would seem positively tame compared to the carnage that could be unleashed by Vlad and his kind.

The thought of her friend's ex made Charlie's smile slip downwards, she would definitely have to chat with Nana about Scarlett's dreams. Especially that one about Robin. She didn't want to believe that Vlad could actually hurt his best friend, but still it was always there in the back of her mind - that Vlad was a vampire, that he had shades of darkness surrounding him, shades which, some evening, might simply overwhelm what little light he had left.

* * *

Scarlett gazed blearily at the cup of tea sitting on her bedside cabinet before turning around in the opposite direction and snuggling deeper under the duvet. "Go away," she protested childishly. "It's too early."

Vlad laughed wickedly. "It's nearly noon." To think that Dmitri complained_ he _was difficult to get up in the evenings! He slipped under the duvet and pulled Scarlett's unresisting body into his arms. He relished the soft warmth of her figure against his, it had been just over a week since he held her like this but it felt like decades. Bending his head slightly, he pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed her scent in. He began to press light open-mouthed kisses against the smoothness of her throat. A possessive thrill raced through him as he ran his tongue tenderly over the marks he had left on her skin last night. He felt like he had claimed her for his own again. The knowledge that his own throat was probably equally as bruised only added to his contentment. A smirk of satisfaction began to spread across his lips as she wriggled closer to him with an appreciative sigh. He ran his hand slowly over the curve and dip of her hip, trailing his cool fingers over the small expanse of exposed skin between her pyjama bottoms and top but otherwise keeping his touch almost completely chaste.

Scarlett groaned with frustration. "I can't believe you have the audacity to try and seduce me before I've even had my first cup of tea." She pulled away from him and sat upright in the bed. She pouted crossly at him but he could tell that was a smile tugging at the right corner of her mouth.

In return, Vlad simply smirked and passed her the tea.

* * *

Count Barrack was a formidable figure; at nine hundred years old, the he was one of the most influential and powerful vampires in the world. As leader of one of the ancient clans, he had taken every opportunity to place his relatives in strategic positions within the complex structure of the supernatural world. He was also an immensely attractive man, his thick dark hair streaked with distinguished silver, his eyes heavy lidded and sensuously dark in the candlelight. He was old enough to be her grandfather but some vamps aged very well.

"You're playing a very dangerous game." Count Barrack tilted his head to the side and studied her intently.

Ingrid had heard that the intensity of those dark eyes usually reduced his opponents to trembling wrecks. Well, not this vampiress. She was a Dracula and therefore more than capable of handling someone like Count Barrack. She met his gaze defiantly, determined to show him that she was his equal and should be treated as such. "I play to win," she replied coolly.

Count Barrack said nothing in reply. He continued to study her, his fingers pressed together in a temple, nothing on that finely chiselled face to indicate the thoughts passing through his mind as he considered both her and the offer that she was making him. Ingrid could do nothing but wait for his response. She appreciated the power of silence; she understood its purpose and felt no temptation to fill the void with mindless chatter or increasingly desperate promises in an attempt to win him around. She concentrated instead on the crackle of firewood, the cold draught that caused the flames of the surrounding candles to flutter every few minutes. She tried not to think of the importance of the Barrack clan or how one of Vlad's first actions as Grand High Vampire had been to hold a highly confidential meeting with the vampire in front of her. A meeting so private that Vlad and Count Barrack had been the only persons in attendance. In a way, she supposed that, this was a test of Vlad's hold over the Barrack clan. Would they remain loyal when faced with a more alluring offer of power?

"No." As if to emphasise this single word, Count Barrack shook his head slowly. However, his face was still thoughtful, his eyes still focused on the ambitious vampiress in front of him. "I will not act against the Chosen One and if any member of my family does so then they shall be banished with immediate effect. However," he leant forward on his throne, "I will not inform your brother of this treachery even though it is my duty to so under the Seventh Protocol of the High Council." Unusually for a man, his dark eyes remained fixed on her face rather than skimming over her body which was so beautifully presented to him in dark blue silk. "Be careful Countess Dracula, the Chosen One has proven himself to be completely without mercy. On several occasions." He leant back again, a move which signalled that she was dismissed.

* * *

Vlad nestled closer to Scarlett, laying his head on her stomach and wrapping an arm across her hips. As the material of her pyjama top rode upwards, blue with teacups printed all over them, he tilted his face downwards to brush his lips softly against the creaminess of her skin. He frowned slightly; glad that his face couldn't be seen by Scarlett, as he noticed the crisscrossing of faded scars on her abdomen. Clearly, Scarlett hadn't limited her self-harming to just her arms. It saddened him to think that she had been so unhappy, so frustrated and so alone that she felt that she had no other recourse than to take those emotions out on herself. He ran his tongue tenderly over her skin, following the white line of one particular scar before ending the trail with a gentle kiss. He never wanted her to feel that way again. He chuckled knowingly as she squirmed beneath him.

"Is licking my tummy supposed to be seductive?" Scarlett asked sarcastically.

Vlad rolled over to his other side so that he was facing her. "Don't tell me it's not working," he replied smugly, "You were practically quivering under my touch."

He grinned as she snorted with disbelief. "_Quivering_?" She repeated incredulously before fixing him with a stern look. "I've never quivered in my life."

Vlad slowly crept up the bed to come face to face with her; he made sure to languorously brush his body against every single inch of hers in a teasing manner. He watched intently as she inhaled sharply, her eyes darkening with arousal at his actions. "Sounds like a challenge," he hissed into her ear before dropping his head to kiss her neck.

Scarlett reached up a hand to run her fingers through his hair, still damp from the shower he had taken earlier when she had been sleeping. She took a deep breath, seemingly savouring the smell of his shower gel. "I should have known letting you get under the duvet would inspire friskiness."

Now it was Vlad's turn to pull faces. "_Friskiness_?" He leant back slightly so he could look into her eyes. "Maybe, I just missed you."

"Only maybe?" Scarlett put on an exaggerated pout before her face resumed a serious expression. "I know it must be difficult for you. Being stuck with someone like me." Vlad's only response was to raise his eyebrows slightly. "You're used to much more than just getting to sleep under the same duvet." A dark blush was steadily building up in her cheeks and she ducked her head so that she didn't have to meet his gaze. "It must drive you crazy."

Vlad sighed heavily. "It is frustrating," he admitted truthfully. He stroked a gentle finger along her jaw line. "I want you. Of course, I do. But," he tilted her chin upwards, her gaze flitting up to his and away again, "it's not just about sex. We're more than that." He wished he could express himself more eloquently than that but strangely he was just as embarrassed by the conversation as she was. It was difficult for him to put his feelings for her into words and things were still too raw between them to start making grand promises or vows. Not for the first time, Vlad found himself wishing that he had his Dad's infamous charm and wit.

Fortunately, from the way Scarlett's lips brushed against his in a light, sweet kiss, it seemed his answer was acceptable.

* * *

Her Nan's homely kitchen was full of light in the early afternoons. It made it the ideal place for her Nan to sit and catch up on her sewing. She took bits and pieces in from her neighbours and friends, replacing zips, shortening trousers, altering a dress or two. She liked to keep herself busy and if anyone wished to give her a pound or two or do her a favour in return that was a bonus.

At the moment, she was working on what appeared to be a little girl's party dress with layers and layers of flouncy skirts. Charlie didn't fancy it much herself, it was too 'My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding' style for her. Her Nan gave her a grateful smile as she set a mug of freshly brewed tea down on the table. "For Anne," She held up the party dress, a gleam of pride in her hazel eyes, "She's playing the angel Gabriel in the school Nativity play."

At the mention of her youngest sibling, Charlie felt bile rise in her throat. She deliberately looked away from the dress and out of the window at the grey sky. Her mother hadn't been around for any of her Nativity plays, hadn't bothered to check for years if Charlie even had clothes to wear or food to eat. She had chosen alcohol over Charlie. That wasn't even what hurt the most. It was that she chose alcohol over Charlie _only_. When it came to her precious half-siblings, Charlie's mother had finally cleaned up her act. Only about ten years too late for her firstborn.

"Don't be like that pet," Nana began softly but Charlie cut her off with an abrupt wave of her hand.

Charlie's antagonism towards her mother and half-siblings was the one sour note in her otherwise fantastic relationship with Nana. She loved her Nan deeply but nothing would ever persuade her to play happy families with the woman who had abandoned her and a bunch of brats who took her place. She took a determined sip of her tea before changing the topic of conversation onto something much safer than family. "I need to talk to you about dream manipulation."

* * *

The black figures on the spreadsheets began to dance in front of Jonno's eyes. With a weary groan, he turned away from his laptop and picked up his mug of coffee. The black liquid was tepid, the taste almost unbearably bitter against his tongue. Glancing down at his wristwatch, Jonno was surprised to realise that it was nearly five o'clock. He had been here for hours trying to analyse the professor's data. No wonder his drink had gone cold.

As he walked towards the kitchenette, he found himself thinking of how much things had changed in the past few weeks. Before...before the _professor,_ they had been working with a severely limited amount of information. Now, Jonno didn't like to think about how they had managed to obtain it but now, they were dealing with the very different but equally difficult issue of too much information. Most of it was probably irrelevant, yet somewhere in the mass of numbers and letters there had to be vital clue as to the source's location.

Chadrick Loewe's speech constantly echoed in his mind. _'We are on the verge of a brand new world. A world free from blood sucking parasites' _The Guild seemed to think that this source would solve all their problems but the truth was none of them even knew what it was. They could all, slayers and vampires alike, be chasing nothing more than a fairytale. Yet, how could any of them, how could he, turn away from an opportunity like this?

Now that an interim report had been submitted to the Head of the Guild, Dave was talking about taking on Dracula. It was almost laughable that his slaying partner thought he was capable of bringing down the Grand High Vampire. Dave was ruthless and brutal, successful in his own way but destroying the Chosen One required more from a slayer than simple violence.

Rinsing his mug out, Jonno began to frown as he thought about some of the questions that Dave had been asking lately. The older slayer seemed particularly interested in Robin Branagh, in both his past experiences of slaying and his relationship with the Chosen One. Jonno wasn't quite sure why this should make him feel uneasy but it did. After what he had witnessed with Professor Teverson, he was uncomfortably aware that Dave didn't seem to have the moral limits as him. As his stomach rumbled loudly in complaint, Jonno's thoughts swiftly switched back to more mundane matters such as dinner. He was on patrol duty at nine o'clock; that gave him enough time to nip out for something to eat and to take a quick nap. Professor Teverson's data would have to wait until tomorrow.

**Chapter 61 teaser**

'_Honesty didn't work for relationships, he should have realised that by now.'_


	64. Chapter 61

_**Today is an entire year since I posted the first chapter of DiF on FFN so of course I couldn't resist updating. If only I had known that I would **__**still **__**be writing this fic a year later... :S**_

_**Sorry for the lack of updates, writing has been going much slower than expected but the plot is all mapped out so fingers crossed I will finish this before another year passes! Please bear with me.**_

_**Bit of an intense one-on-one chapter between Scarlett and Vlad. Partially inspired by some feedback from cecld16 who felt concerned that Scarlett hadn't fully recognised the harm she caused to Vlad in their argument over Bertrand. As ever I hope you enjoy and thank you to all those still reading this – old and new!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 61**

Dark brown sauce oozed up from beneath the melted cheese, the cherry tomatoes were just burnt enough to enhance the flavour and the benefit of this particular pizza was that Vlad didn't have to make that most perplexing and troublesome of choices – pizza or steak. He scoffed down the remaining slice of his barbeque pizza and licked his fingers with relish. He caught Scarlett's smile of amusement at his action. "You have no idea how much I love pizza." He leant over her shoulder and peered hopefully into the takeaway box resting on her lap. "Robin always insists on curry."

"You poor malnourished baby," Scarlett teased him before pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth in an affectionate half-kiss. "Luckily for you, I've got a ball gown to fit into." She handed over the remains of her pizza earning herself a delighted grin from Vlad in return.

As Scarlett curled up beside him, Vlad had to admit that he loved this whole 'duvet day' thing. It sounded so simple, boring even but he thought that spending the day eating pizza and watching films with his girlfriend was fantastic. It was just so good to do something normal for a chance. Something that ordinary couples must do on a rainy Saturday. Ordinary couples who had arguments about washing up or who had control of the remote, who didn't have to worry about supernatural power struggles, ancient prophecies or their partner's dangerous dietary requirements.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Scarlett asked sleepily. "I could pop over to Robin's and see if he has any spare bottles."

Vlad winced at this reminder of his vampirism. It was almost as if she knew what he had just been thinking about. "Yes," he asked more sharply than he intended. He swallowed another chunk of pizza before adding a begrudging, "Sorry." He quickly stuffed another slice into his mouth before she could ask him anything else. He would rather not discuss what had happened last night. It was embarrassing to think that she had seen him like that; it wasn't exactly sexy to find your boyfriend curled up in a ball practically whimpering for blood. Worse still, it reminded her of what he actually was, that underneath the human face and clothing, he was still a bloodthirsty predator.

With a heavy sigh, Scarlett hoisted herself up into a sitting position. "OK, Vlad darling, I know I have my 'blonde' moments." They both knew she was still thinking of the time she had tried to take Vlad's pulse. In fairness, she hadn't known he was a vampire but she still seemed to get incredibly flustered over that incident. He still found it absolutely hilarious, not that he would ever dare tell her that. "But, I also know you are incredibly sneaky."

Vlad tried to look affronted at her words but they were too accurate for him to muster much conviction.

"Sometimes I get the feeling that you are trying to hide yourself from me." Scarlett's voice was unusually low. She spoke with a quiet hesitation that suggested she was carefully weighing up her words. "More specifically, I feel like you are trying to conceal your vampirism."

Vlad opened his mouth to protest most vehemently against this accusation but Scarlett gave him such a stern look that he found himself reaching for another slice of pizza instead. Sometimes it was just safer to keep your mouth full of food.

"Maybe I'm imagining it," she offered as a possible escape route, "but sometimes I feel like you worry about drinking soy blood in front of me. You don't talk to me much about being a vampire or your life in Transylvania or even your role as the Grand High Vampire. In fact, I don't think we've really talked about any of that since you took me to Canary Wharf and that was just an outline of the basics. I hope you know that I'd love to hear about your people and your traditions. From what Bertrand has been telling me I'm sure it must be fascinating." Scarlett drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Vlad instantly missed the warmth of her body which had been pressed against his side. "I worry about it. I'm scared that you think that you have to cover it up, that you have to pretend to be someone you're not. I don't want you to feel like that."

The pizza in Vlad's mouth suddenly assumed the consistency of cardboard and rubber. He forced it down his throat before answering. "But I do." He caught the look of devastation on her face before he realised that what his words had sounded like. "I mean I do have to do that." He found himself experiencing an irrational urge to adopt the same protective position as Scarlett. He tried to explain himself but the words felt clumsy on his tongue. "You caught a glimpse of what I'm truly like." He wasn't sure if he was referring to what happened in the History Faculty or the blood oath; either one was sufficiently horrific to justify Scarlett's rejection of him. "You called me a monster." He watched the way Scarlett's eyes widened as he repeated the insult she had thrown at him during their fight. "I don't think that you need any more reminders that I'm not quite like you."

Scarlett sucked in a quick breath before releasing it slowly. Her arms tightened around her legs until he could see the whiteness spreading across her knuckles. The film played on in the background, dramatic music and loud crashes indicating a fight scene. Neither of them was playing attention to it anymore. Vlad felt panic stirring inside him as Scarlett stared down at her duvet, an intense frown marring her forehead as she seemed to think deeply about what he had just said.

He shouldn't have said anything. He should have told her that she was just being silly, that she really was imagining things and then he could have distracted her with a few kisses and caresses. Instead, like an idiot, he had tried to be honest. Honesty didn't work for relationships, he should have realised that by now. Trying to get close to someone could only ever have one result – pain. His parents had taught him that relationships were a battlefield; you had to lie and cheat to gain advantage, there was a balance of power within a relationship and it was best if you had the upper hand because the alternative was to be the one who got hurt and ultimately rejected. It was too late now; he had said the bloody words out loud. They were out there now, between them, making Scarlett frown, making him regret every stupid syllable.

Finally Scarlett spoke. "I'm sorry." She looked up at him with contrition in her eyes. "I was being a cow when I said that. I knew it was the worst possible thing I could throw at you, your weak spot, I didn't mean it. I promise I didn't mean it. I was just lashing-"

"Out," Vlad finished the sentence without thinking. He couldn't stay mad at her for that given that he had been doing exactly the same thing himself. He had taunted her about her appearance and sexual inexperience precisely because it would hit her where it hurt. If he hadn't meant his words, there was every possibility that she hadn't meant hers. It still hurt though. It had hurt him far more deeply that he was prepared to acknowledge even to himself. "I know. But let's face it, it's not like I didn't give you good reason. You witnessed me ripping Bertrand's throat apart." He still felt like it was a miracle that she let him anywhere near her after seeing just how much violence he could inflict with his fangs.

To his surprise, Scarlett reached out and took his hand, her fingers weaving around his in a gesture that was becoming comfortingly familiar. "It was a bit scary to see that side of you." He could tell that she was reluctant to make that particular admission, there was a wariness on her face that suggested she was worried about hurting his feelings again. "But I still care about you. I'm probably going to say all of this in the wrong way but please let me try to explain."

Vlad nodded slowly. A tightness in his throat, which had nothing to do with bloodlust, made it too difficult to speak. He tightened his fingers around hers as if this would somehow stop the conversation from going down the 'it's me, not you,' path.

* * *

A smile flitted over Scarlett's lips as she glanced down at their entwined hands. She wasn't sure if she would ever get used to the compelling mixture of vulnerability and darkness in Vlad. On some level, deep down inside, she knew he was dangerous – theoretically speaking, yet she couldn't quite bring herself to believe it. There was a cruel streak in him, a certain ruthlessness that took away her breath for all the wrong reasons but there was also a light in him, a goodness that hadn't been extinguished despite Bertrand's hints to the contrary. She desperately wished that she hadn't thrown those words at him, it made her heart ache to know that he was still hurting from them. She wanted to reassure him, to show him how much she cared, to make him see that she thought of him as a person rather than a vampire, a complicated, contradictory person who deserved to be loved.

She wasn't certain how exactly she was going to achieve this but she knew she had to try. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her face to meet Vlad's gaze. There was a haunted expression in his eyes that make her heart twist with pain. A part of him still believed that she would walk away from him, still feared that was what this conversation was going to be about. In a way, she knew that whatever she said now wouldn't take that fear away from him. Only time could prove that she was to be trusted with his emotions.

"I understand that you're a vampire, I understand that certain aspects of your lifestyle are inevitable. Consuming blood or some form of substitute." Scarlett held his gaze steadily even when he tried to flinch away at the mention of blood. They needed to confront this particular fear head on. It was one thing for him to try and be an ordinary student, she would never deny him that, but it was an entirely different matter if he put himself at risk. She didn't want him suffering because he was too ashamed to drink blood in front of her. "Not being able to go out in the sunlight. Having fangs." She couldn't help smiling at this one, she _liked_ Vlad's fangs; they were sexy. She wasn't sure why exactly she found them so attractive, they were just so perfectly formed and the way he ran his tongue over the sharp tips... She gave herself a mental shake, now was not the time to get distracted. She forced her mind back to the issue at hand. "These are all things that you have absolutely no control over; they are part and parcel of the whole vampire physiology. You shouldn't feel afraid that I'm going to judge you or freak out if you need to drink blood. Or if you want to use your powers." Vlad ducked his head slightly as if he were in disagreement with her words. Without taking her eyes off him, Scarlett moved forward and straddled his lap. The added friction and closeness certainly had an immediate impact as Vlad's gaze snapped back to hers. "Vlad, I don't care that you're a vampire," she said earnestly, "Please believe me when I say that. I don't want you to feel like you have to change around me. I accept and love you for both who and what you are." She leant forward to brush her lips against his in a light kiss. The movement caused Vlad to gasp almost as if he were in pain. Horrified, Scarlett tried to pull back. She was probably too heavy for him, especially after wolfing down two special kebabs in one week. Not to mention the copious amounts of pizza they had just consumed.

Vlad caught her and gently pulled her closer, tighter against him and she realised, with a mixture of alarm and arousal, the real reason for his reaction. His hands settled firmly on her hips, holding her steady, an expression of mock-innocence on his beautiful features.

Scarlett faltered slightly. It was difficult enough trying to articulate her feelings let alone trying to do it when pressed so intimately against him but Vlad was looking up at her, an expectant look on his face, as if he already knew that she had more to say. It was the doubt lingering in his eyes more than anything that convinced her she had to continue. If she stopped now then they would only have to talk about this another time, possibly after another fight when even more damage had been done.

"I care about you," she repeated in a firm voice, "But, just because I care doesn't mean that I have to condone everything you do. What you did to Bertrand was unnecessarily cruel and violent. You could have simply staked him instead of attempting to rip his heart out." A shudder went through her at the memory of Vlad's rage. Vlad must have felt it because his hands tightened by the tiniest fraction on her hips as if he were expecting her to move away. "The blood oath would have worked perfectly well without biting him on the neck." Unbidden a hand rose to her own throat in sympathy as she recalled just how vicious Vlad's bite had been and how much blood had been split onto the floor of the study.

Vlad was glowering at her now. "I bet you think that I need someone with the strength to tell me when I'm wrong." There was a vindictive sneer forming on his face as he spoke. His sensuous mouth was turned downwards, a tell tale sign that he was fighting to stop his fangs from descending. She really shouldn't find that quite so attractive. "I have plenty of people ready and willing to tell me that I'm wrong, to criticise my actions, to persuade or even try to force me to do what they see as the best course of action. I don't need a girlfriend who is going to do the same."

Scarlett acknowledged his words with a rueful nod. Vlad was constantly under all sorts of pressures that she couldn't even begin to imagine. Being Grand High Vampire probably involved a lot more than simply wearing a crown and a fancy cape. "No, you definitely do not need another person telling you what to do." She raised her hand to stroke his face, her fingers carefully tracing the outline of his gorgeously scowling mouth. "But, I think you need someone to remind you that you're better than that."

Vlad gave her a look of pure cynicism.

Scarlett pressed her fingers gently against his lips as if to hush any words of dissent. "You defended your actions by telling me that you were a vampire, that bloodshed and cruelty were what vampires are all about. That made me furious more than anything else because it's simply not true. Just because you are a vampire doesn't mean you have to be evil. You're not like that, you're not a monster, you're not heartless, I know you don't like being cruel or nasty, I know you have regrets. I can see it in the way you are treating Bertrand, bringing his possessions to Oxford, giving him medicine, the shirts that cover his neck, you feel guilty for what you have done to him. Monsters don't feel guilt, they don't apologise, they don't try to make things better."

* * *

Vlad wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, as if even the smallest distance between them was too much. He sighed deeply, an action which caused ripples of cool air to sweep over the exposed skin of her neck. "I think you overestimate me." He looked up at her, a mixture of sadness and self-loathing in his eyes. "Being the Grand High Vampire... it's not easy to rule a world of bloodthirsty subjects. Sometimes, I have to do certain things. Unpleasant things." He thought of the vampires that he had dusted, the rebels he had bitten, the warrants for execution that he had signed, the sacrifices he had made to appease vampires and slayers alike. He had done things that Scarlett couldn't even begin to contemplate, things that would horrify and repel her. It felt duplicitous to hold her in his arms and listen to her trying to reassure him that he wasn't the monster he knew he was.

Scarlett shook her head, in disbelief or disagreement, he couldn't tell. "OK, so maybe you have some dark secrets in your past, stuff that you'd prefer me to not know." There was a slight shadowing in Scarlett's eyes as she caressed his cheek. "That's ok. We all have our secrets, things we wish that we hadn't done, things that we'd rather forget. I don't have any right to demand that you tell me everything."

Vlad couldn't help wondering about the secrets were lurking in Scarlett's past. He doubted that any of them were to do with dust, blood and murder but there was still the intriguing matter of her father and how he came to have knowledge of an ancient vampiric language. Still, he couldn't exactly press her for information without some of his own past coming back to haunt him. There was so much he didn't want her to know. So much that made him unlovable. He should at least try to warn her of what she was getting involved with. "I'm ..." He hesitated to say evil because he was almost certain that Scarlett would disagree but what other word was appropriate? He _was _evil; he had one thousand reflections all ready and willing to prove it. "Not as good as you think," he finished softly.

"I still care about you," Scarlett replied stubbornly.

Vlad tried to ignore the fluttery sensation that her words caused in his chest. It almost felt as if his heart were trying to beat again. He - no _they -_ were in too deep now. He had become far too emotionally attached, it was becoming difficult to imagine his unlife without her in it and he found himself torn between wanting to run and wanting to trust that she felt the same way about him. He studied her intently; there was nothing in her sapphire eyes, her lovely face, her entire demeanour to suggest that she meant anything other than what she had said.

She caressed his cheek again, her fingers warm and gentle, a delicious contrast to the coldness of his skin. "Vlad, my darling." The words were a whisper, an endearment shared between two lovers, Vlad closed his eyes and let her voice wash over him. He hated the word 'darling', it reminded him of his mother, all false cooing and malicious sentiment but Scarlett didn't know that, couldn't possibly know that. When she said it, she genuinely meant it as a term of affection, her light Irish accent transforming it into something soft, almost loving. He felt her lips press against his in another light kiss, one intended to reassure but this time he followed her when she moved back, his mouth pressing harder against hers, his tongue slipping past her lips. There was no need for any more words between them. They weren't enough. Perhaps they never would be. But this, Vlad deepened the kiss, yes this was more than enough.

**Chapter 62 teaser**

'_I can't believe you're actually going to eat that.'_


End file.
